







s 



• • 

I 



\ 



f , 


/ 


« « 




r* 







i 


1 




I » 

• i 







« I 

f 


/ 



* 

» 


• » 


s 


« 


« 


( " 

» « 

/ 

■■■’ •<• , 

V . 

. / 

t. 


I » 


p 


i 


« 


^ 


V 

^ >• 


» 

. -t 


N 





1 


♦- 






V . 


I 


/ 


i 


« 


I 


. I 




f 


,4^ • -S ^ 











, s 



<■ t 






•i 


I 






i 


A 


1 


J 

/I 


f 


It 


■- 


.# 


I 





» 


« 


’ w 

i 


\ 



I 


I 


%• 

* 


» 






t 

> 



I 


t 






f 

t 


> 

•%. 


f 


‘ * 

> - 



t 


DIVORCED. 


A NOVEL 


BY 


MADELEINE VINTON DAHLGREN, 

Author of “Lights and Shadows of a Life,” “The Lost 
Name.” “A Washington Winter,” “South Sea 
Sketches,” “South-Mountain Magic,” 

“ Memoirs of Admiral 
Dahlgren,” Etc. 



CHICAGO AND NEW YORK: 
BELFORD, CLARKE & CO. 
1887. 



Copyright, 

1887. 

By Belford, Clarke & Co. 





Donohue & Henneberryi Printers and Binders, Chicago. 


CONTENTS, 


A Wedding 

. CHAPTER I. 

- 9 

Nora - 

CHAPTER II. 

25 

Father John 

CHAPTER III. 

- 38 

Separation - 

CHAPTER IV. 

52 

Sly and Pry 

CHAPTER V. 

- 68 

Miriam 

CHAPTER VI. 

85 

The Conspiracy 

CHAPTER VII. 

- 104 

Tangled Threads 

CHAPTER VIII. 

124 

The Conspirators 

CHAPTER IX. 

- 139 

The Devil’s Own 

CHAPTER X. 

159 

The Escape 

CHAPTER XI. 

- 176 

T?etribution 

CHAPTER XII. 

192 



■ »i -=i\-^ ■»■'”' •^ • - * • » •-. 4 " 4 '- ; — • - - ‘ *. * . fCT' . 

. \ /y ^ * '■ ‘ . C J ' ■» ' *4 • / *' • / 

;-'.V-..-’f.V\^‘ V -^v" . ■■ ' ''■.■■•.• Vi 

'‘.T \ p.;.. _. ^ , ;. .1 . ’" .s, 

ic i V . ^ X' >- .. w* ^ ' * i53V ^ 

2 - V ‘ ■ ^ i'* t •■•r. ‘ ■ \,\ ' 




x-S,...’ 

i- -‘p»^ • .. •k'' 

•'• • Jn * ^ f' - ' 

•' ► ■ . t .. ^ 


. / /■ .^vi; 'i ri v-- ■ .-‘2,- i -2 ' 


‘-••r 




I A 




A 


, , i 


' ^ 


.• 'Vt..., 


I 


) 






A 

» 


J* .. 


« • 
«►*. 


rf. ' • 

. 






. r 


' • X 


J. 


V 


t 

L . 


1 


- .:*■ *:. . :. A- i ’ ■’.•■ -^ ■ X - ^'■ 2 . ’"X • .-. 

'i .. 5- Xir-.- • .> /A !: . -■' A • ;-.i. ^ 

■i^: ; “ ■ '-' , ^' *> ,■'■.• •■' ■ - '^ t > : '•'J’'f-i/' 

• ‘ , • * • - ^ • * , ' . « T •* * !•• ' -^ra 

- ' 1 ' ■ ■ ' ■•-»* 'sT-* ^ I 'A* ‘ i - '• ^ ’ • I , 

y. 1 . r.r. 

• rifcL'. A. . ♦ ', * ’ A»^ / 


■m 

‘i 


ir- 



PREFACE. 


HE title of this novel, Divorced, explains the motif 



of this work, which is intended as a plea for the 
sacredness of the marriage tie, and also to exhibit some 
of the manifold dangers connected with our present 
system of divorce laws. 

The delineations herein given are simply portrayal 
of types, and in no one instance are personal sketches. 

My present wish, as in my former works, is to make 
fiction point a moral, and I desire here to thank the 
many friends all over the country who have hitlierto 
encouraged me so generously to continue my effoi*ts for 
reform. This, indeed, has always been acknowledged as 
the legitimate province of a writer, who aspiresjo con- 
secrate his pen to the expression of virtuous sentiments. 

If this story should happily cause the unreflecting, 
who contemplate marriage, to pause on the sacred 
threshold, and weigh well the future, I shall be repaid. 

If, perchance, the plot of Divorced may be deemed 
over-wrought, I need only point to the divorce court 


6 


PREFACE. 


records, now on file, to find the types ; and added to 
these, comes on a thronging procession, whose name 
will soon be legion! 

Do our law-makers, our statesmen realize, that when 
bad laws are allowed to exist, in open violation of the 
Divine law, retribution must as surely come to the ag- 
gregate mass, as to the individual ? 

This is no sophism — 

Our legislative, our judicial mistakes, as regards 
this whole question of Marriage and Divorce, are grad- 
ually but surely undermining the very foundations of 
the social structure. 

Untold domestic tragedies are being enacted, through- 
out the length and breadth of this fair land, and the 
number goes on increasing, with alarming rapidity. 

Much of this trouble is caused by our easy divorce 
laws. 

These pages give but one out of the many phases 
of crimes that have occurred, and are liable to be en- 
gendered, as a consequence of the temptations our di- 
vorce laws present. 

We are taught to pray, Lead us not into tempta- 
tion.” Conspiracies and perjuries are fostered, and the 
licentiousness of roving fancies is incited, by our facility 
of divorce. 


PREFACE. 


7 


No home is secure, where so many different causes 
are permitted legally to disrupt the most sacred of all 
human ties. 

Nor must we forget the coming generation. The 
cry of, Whose is the child, arises to-day from many a 
desecrated hearth-stone. Children learn to take part 
in the wrangling, and early begin to hate, with all the 
undisciplined vehemence of youth, either one parent or 
the other. 

This is an awful evil, that cries aloud to heaven for 
redress. 


M. V. D. 



iV*.-^’ ' . V. •• <'.;'j:>V:/*-* ► ■ f,-. ‘ ^ V~- •■' '■ -• - ■ •- 

• ‘v •<■*■'%■ . i-’ o’' '*’ • ■ •■"'V 

.;:-v^r‘.-'^ - ■ ^ ;4 ■-■■^■": • ';.^ if N 


•V 


V i 

d 


• ^ 


^ V .y;\'- ' r'- <:.'■ .'. ,. . •. 

ys'- • s . : ^ , . ^ ^ .■»' •' . — ■ 

' . > , ■ f •*.' ^ * ~ /■ J V * • . * 

■ '* • - ' '^s. * • '• ' ■ ■ Vi -* "^^1. 

r ‘ •".. ■ V ' . *'' ■ ' s ■■ ' ^ .' ‘t.-' 

■ r* / . <* . • ! •■•,:■ 


m 


« c . , > 

/ • 


' s . • 

'Vjt- 









DIVORCED. 


CHAPTEE I. 


A WEDDING. 



S a matter of course, there is joy in our hearts. 


my fair Paulina, but I must say that this is a 
rather funereal manifestation of it,^^ said Neale Voland 
to the pale Paulina Peyton, his bride of an hour. 

And it was a passing strange caprice, for a beautiful 
young girl, free to act as her own mistress, to select as 
the appointed time, the gloaming of a cheerless Novem- 
ber day, with no other witnesses besides Hermann, the 
valet of the bridegroom, and Nora, the faithful old 
housekeeper, who had lived at Hazlehurst and taken 
charge of the homestead these many years ; indeed, 
ever since the death of Paulina^s mother. 

I had rather thought of the glorious sunset hour 
than of these twilight shadows, Neale,^^ answered 
Paulina, with a dreamy languor that seemed rather to 
address itself to some invisible ideal than to the very 
material embodiment of a regular club man, such as 
Neale Voland really was. 

Dare say,^^ answered he, ^^but the stupid blunder 
of that sanctimonious parson whom you insisted should 


9 


10 


DIVORCED. 


perform the ceremony, who by some luckless misunder- 
standing confused his engagements and officiated at a 
funeral while we were in waiting, made a pleasing mud- 
dle, madam, which upset your romantic idea of a glowing 
sunset, and in addition deprived me, for the infinite space 
of two hours, of the coveted bliss of calling you mine.” 

They were seated in the embrasure of a window, and 
Paulina still gazed at the skurrying, leaden clouds, 
scarcely seeming to heed the presence of the man to 
whom she had but just an hour ago given herself, for 
better or for worse.” 

You are pleased to be captious, Neale,” she quietly 
replied; perchance you, also, take exception to my 
wearing a black dress, and to the fact that our wedding 
day is Friday.” 

Xot in the least,” dryly responded he, with a little 
short cough, as if his breath were fairly taken away. 
^^My wilful angel may spread a banquet of thirteen 
covers for our wedding feast, salute mine ears with the 
dirge-like strains of Mozart^s requiem as a befitting 
epithalamium, then send me away in a hearse, if it so 
please her adorable fancy, yet in spite of all her cruel- 
ties she is my angel still ;” and so saying he drew her 
closely to him with an air of ownership quite in contra- 
diction to his words. 

1 am so pleased, dear,” she said, now turning upon 
him her deep and earnest eyes, that you are in very 
truth, as I know you must be, quite superior to the idle 
fancies that fetter so many minds.” 


A WEDDIKG. 


11 


This sentiment was a true expression of Paulina^s 
character. She was always seeking to be free from the 
restraining opinions of others, and this wild desire to 
think and act for herself, unbiased by any one, had led 
her to commit the fatal mistake of a hasty marriage, 
which she had made upon a short acquaintance, and 
without taking counsel of any person. Then, too, was 
she led to show her disdain of current superstitions by 
selecting a dress, an hour, a day for this supreme act, 
which to the vulgar belief would be deemed un- 
lucky. 

Yet hers was a superior nature, that only needed 
direction and discipline. Her eccentricities were but 
the outcropping of a rich, uncultivated soil, while a 
generous nature gave promise of an ample harvest of 
excellence, at some 'future time, when her energies 
should be well-directed. 

Alas, poor child, she had married this man, misled 
by the mirage of her illusions, knowing him in no- wise 
as he really was, but having built up a secret shrine in 
her own imagination. 

It was before this sekos she had pledged her faith 
and the loyalty of a life, and she had invested this deity 
of her hallucinations with all the fair proportions of a 
true creation. 

Thus she had attributed to this imaginary being the 
highest qualities of honor, delicacy, and above all of 
absolute truth. 

He was to her, as one descended from out the 


n 


DIVORCED. 


riven clouds, panoplied in the complete armor of the 
virtues. 

And does it not often come to pass, that sensitive 
and imaginative women marry men wlio are but the 
merest illusive forms of the types that they have 
selected, and endowed in fancy with every pleasing trait. 

Nor are these mistakes made by the ignoble, but 
they are rather the dangers attendant upon ideal aspi- 
rations. 

There is so little in our transitory existence to fill 
up in any degree the measure of our yearnings, when 
one looks beyond that narrow limit which the immedi- 
ate bodily needs exact. 

We may calmly reason about the philosophy of life ; 
we may successfully struggle to meet its actual physi- 
cal requirements ; but what can satisfy the longings of a 
poetic temperament ? 

Alas, for Paulina's vague idealizations, that had led 
her to become the alter ego of a man, whose sentiments 
were a displeasing antithesis to her own, in every partic- 
ular. 

Neale Yoland had an absolutely simple creed, but he 
belonged to a very large communion. He worshiped 
the god of respectability. Whatever a man of fashion, 
a club man, might do and not lose caste, was for him 
permissible and admissible. 

If society indorsed an action, it was as the promul- 
gation of a gospel, righteous in his eyes. But beyond 
its decrees his conscience seemed to be at rest. His 


A WEDDING. 


13 


soul, if soul it could be called that directed his life, 
was thus narrowed down to so fine a point that it moved 
like the mariner’s needle in an extremely small com- 
pass. 

Of course he was essentially a self-seeker; why should 
he not be ? 

Society exacted no real abnegations, it only required 
the observance of certain forms, and these prescribed 
limits never interfered with the luxurious indulgence of 
voluptuous taste. They simply created an artificial 
standard, that was in fact no barrier to the pleasures of 
life. 

Although Neale was secretly annoyed at the eccen- 
tric taste of his winsome bride, yet as there were no 
lookers-on, no society reporters present, to make the 
world the wiser as to the manner of their nuptials, and 
as he was quite devoid of sentimental thoughts on the 
occasion, he could but smile serenely as a man may well 
afford to do, who, having just drawn a prize in a lottery, 
cares but little how cranked the wheel that revolves to 
him that which he desires. 

Forsooth, my darling,” said the bridegroom, in 
the blandest of tones, ‘^this is a wonderful merry- 
making of ours, for a wedding-day. No cards, no 
cake, no guests, and no feast of any kind. Have you 
not a faint suspicion, my Paulina, that society may 
call us to account for such an extraordinary departure 
from conventional rules ? ” 

Neale Voland had very white and even teeth, but 


14 


DIVOECED. 


when he smiled, there was a certain gleam about them 
that gave one rather the feeling of a challenge than of 
social hilarity. The tone of his voice, too, was low and 
perfectly regulated, yet there was an indefinable sarcasm 
in its inflections, which could rather be felt than defined. 

Whatever it was, Paulina was too sensitive not to be 
aware of it. 

She seemed to arouse herself, as one beginning to 
awaken out of pleasant dreams, and, scarcely realizing 
that she spoke her thoughts, murmured something 
about ^^the baseless fabric of a vision. 

This was rather too much for the equanimity of her 
matter-of-fact companion, who now answered with some 
asperity : 

rather fancy, madam, that I am neither base nor 
baseless 

You ! ” answered she ; why, certainly not. Who 
intimated such a possibility ! ” 

thought, perhaps, said Neale, with some slight 
embarrassment, ‘‘^that you were pleased to allude to 
some phases of my past life.” 

""Phases of your past life !” repeated Paulina in a 
dazed way. ""What phases, Neale?” 

""Oh, come now, sweetness,” expostulated he, ""if 
you have heard somewhat of my marital infelicities, isnT 
it rather unkind, in the very heyday of our new- 
found bliss, to be posing that way, for effect?” 

During this little speech, which was rattled off in a 
curt way, Paulina’s deejD blue-gray eyes opened wide, and 


A WEDDING. 


15 


wider, as she stared upon him with a startled gaze. She 
looked like one who had been in a trance state, but who, 
by some sudden electric shock, has been painfully re- 
called to consciousness. 

‘^My husband,” she said, ^^your words chill and be- 
numb me. There is something cruel in them, but I 
know not what.” 

This, madam,” answered he, now quite exasper- 
ated, ^^is a dramatic scene, which should have been played 
out before the recent tableau of our marriage ceremony 
was enacted.” 

As these words, uttered in a cold and measured tone 
fell upon her ear, Paulina instinctively withdrew from 
the encircling arm of her husband, and sinking upon an 
ottoman within the recessed window where they were, 
she sat with clasped hands and a bewildered question- 
ing look, that was painful. 

Her lips opened as if to speak, and then closed with 
a compressed effort. 

Well now,” said Neale, ^‘^is our newly wedded life 
to open with what I hate above all things — a scene ? 
I might have had the sense to know, that there is no 
freedom to be compared to the club life. 

I was a fool to be so bewitched by a pair of blue 
eyes as to make a mistake a second time in choosing a 
wife.” 

A mistake a second time in choosing a wife,” whis- 
pered she, as if in echoing those brutal words she had 
suddenly grown afraid of the sound of her own voice. 


16 


DIVORCED. 


“^Pray be merciful, Neale to the dead, even when you 
wound the living.'’^ 

In the presence of this grief stricken bride, the man 
of fashion, the imperturbable society beau, callous as he 
was, looked disturbed. His handsome face, a trifle 
coarse perhaps, in the lines around the mouth and 
sensuous chin, grew slightly mottled, and the turgid veins 
of his thick-set, bovine neck, were swollen. He stood 
now face to face with a trouble which he had himself 
brought about, and without the moral courage to ac- 
knowledge his own guilt, he was in that most unreason- 
able of all moods; that of one, who knows that he has 
committed a wrong, and who in place of blaming him- 
self, is inclined to lay the blame on the person wronged. 
Not that he was at all disturbed by any scruples of 
conscience as to what he had done — not at all. He 
had never in his life asked himself any weak questions 
as to what was right, but he had, with unvarying suc- 
cess, compelled obstacles to yield to his own wishes. 

He had always subjected the various undertakings in 
which he had been engaged, to one crucial test — expedi- 
ency. And hitherto, he had been quite satisfled with 
the results brought about by the exercise of this worldly 
wisdom. 

Paulina was an orphan girl, who had just attained 
her legal majority; and freed from all tutelage, in- 
experienced and headstrong, she had, misled by her fool- 
ish caprice, been dazzled by the glamour of his accom- 
plishments, and by the fascinating picture drawn, of 


A WEDDIl^G. 


17 


the brilliant society into which he would introduce her. 
This luminary was the first that had dawned upon the 
narrow horizon of her life’s experiences, and she had 
like a silly moth fluttered for an instant, attracted to 
the incandescent brightness, only to be consumed. 

It had been at best but a hurried courtship, full of 
concealments and passionate pursuit on the one side, and 
of silly dreams and false views of things on the other. 

Out of these illusions, a reality difficult to meet had 
been evoked. 

Neale Voland had a past history which had never 
been made known to Paulina, because of the fear that 
it might spoil his wooing. 

He therefore concluded not to inform her of what 
it might be disagreeable for her to know until she 
should become his wife. In fact, such was the exag- 
gerated sentimentalism of her expressions, as well as 
from some serious remarks made by her, that there was 
every reason to conclude that if Paulina knew him as 
he really was, she never would marry him. 

He had unscrupulously availed himself of her ro- 
mantic fancies, to make the marriage as hidden as pos- 
sible, and also to hasten the time. 

But now, in the first flush of complete success — the 
victim ensnared, the bride secured — why should he 
feel aught but exultation ? 

He certainly did not intend to make any damaging 
admissions, any unnecessary confidences; but there was 
one fact that had been carefully concealed from her. 


18 


DIVORCED. 


that he felt must be made known so soon as she was 
absolutely his. 

Nor was he impelled by any sense of honor in her 
regard to this decision; but he knew that it would be 
very imprudent to introduce her to society without first 
informing her of their real situation. 

Nor was it even a kind consideration for her feel- 
ings that caused him to recognize this necessity, for in 
this matter, as in all other things, he only thought of 
himself. 

There might indeed be reason to fear, that unless she 
was duly enlightened as to their position, she would 
make some awkward mistakes that would expose him to 
the sarcastic sneers of his associates. 

Having thought the subject over, he decided to tell 
her so soon as the marriage ceremony was concluded, 
under the supposition that at such a moment she would 
be so infatuated with him, as to be to a degree indiffer- 
ent to that which might, at a later day, more seriously 
displease her. 

He was annoyed to observe her dreamy and ab- 
stracted mood, at a time when he supposed she would 
be solely preoccupied with him. 

So from the very first as we have seen, his amour 
inopre being wounded, he began to lose his temper. He 
knew that he did not understand her as he had imag- 
ined he did, and thus irritated at the whole situation, 
forgetting what a monstrous wrong had been enacted, 
he made those most unfeeling remarks. 


A WEDDING. 


19 


The solemn truth was, that in his eagerness to se- 
cure Paulina, he had allowed her to consider him as a 
widower, as one whom the providence of God had left 
desolate, when, in reality, he was a cVivorce. 

This slight mistake must now be corrected, for was 
it not, after all, a distinction without a difference? 

Was not Miriam laid away as effectually as if she 
were entombed? With this consoling reflection he 
gained courage to speak. 

Paulina,” said he, clearing his throat, which in 
spite of himself, gave forth a husky sound, ^^you 
quite misunderstand me, darling. If for a moment I 
was angry at your ideal abstraction, it was because my 
love is so vast, that it asks that in this hour of hours, 
you should think of me alone. Did I love you less 
fondly, I might, perchance be content, that the stars 
and the clouds should share with me your flitting 
thoughts, but as it is, out of the excess of my passion, I 
am jealous.” 

So saying, he sought again to draw her gently to 
him, but the wounded fawn is timid of approach, and 
she drew back. Her tearful eyes alone answered the 
appeal. 

There was silence until Xeale again spoke. 

"MVhat is it, my Paulina will not forgive?” 

^^Ah, Neale,” she answered with a faltering voice, 
I am not unforgiving, but I am hurt. Words wound 
like blows. * A mistake a second time in choosing a 
wife,^ you said. I know you were angry at me, and my 


20 


DIVORCED. 


absurd, romantic illusions deserved rebuke ; but the 
dead, Neale. How could you accuse tlie dead?^^ 

The dead, Paulina V repeated he, the grave has 
not claimed my first wife — she is dead to me, but she 
still lives — I am not widowed, sweet charmer, I am di- 
vorced. 

As he reiterated this fact, being so intent to make 
once for all the unpleasant announcement, and thinking 
as usual, principally about himself, he scarcely noticed 
the deadly palor that overspread the beautiful face of 
his new wife, nor was he at all prepared for what en- 
sued. 

With what rude force had this iconoclast shattered 
the idol her fancy had worshiped ! And now crashing 
through heart and brain, as if a living thunderbolt had 
destroyed the image, it was utterly swept away. 

What a frightful revulsion of feeling ! And who 
shall stay the flood gates, amid the torrent that rushes 
onward ? It was as if heavy scales had fallen from 
blinded eyes, and she saw him with a true spiritual 
sense, as he was, stript of all charm. She did not cry, 
nor scream, nor faint* in this moment of extreme 
anguish, for in her soul raged a consuming fire that bade 
defiance to direst fate. 

Shame, contempt, hatred, absolute loathing, usurped 
the place of love. 

She was at heart a chaste, pure woman, whose love 
was not passion, but the embodiment of a sentiment for 
the beautiful, a reaching out for companionship, an in- 


A WEDDIJfG. 


21 


vestment of the object selected with heroic qualities and 
virtues — as a superior being, such as a true woman 
yearns to recognize as first in the world for her. 

None of these, was the miserable man who had thus 
cruelly deceived her. 

Instantly rising to her full height, and she was tall 
of stature, with flashing and dilated eyes, and command- 
ing mien, in clear, almost ringing tones of scornful re- 
proach, she upbraided this trifler. 

^^Itwasa brave and noble thing,” she said, ^^thus 
to betray, entrap and insnare a woman’s trust. I dis- 
dain to grieve, for I scorn yon, Neale Voland. If for 
one short hour, nay, one hour of butterfly, senseless joy, 
I was yours, I am so no longer. For, so help me God, 
I would sooner be the bride of death, than fill the place 
that by right belongs to any living woman. You have 
misjudged your victim, sir, and more — if indeed, mar- 
riage is but that mere legal figment, that pure civil con- 
tract you would have it, if it has no abiding, inherent, 
essential virtue of permanency, it can be dissolved as 
readily for me as for you, and it shall be. I, too, will 
demand a divorce ! ” 

So saying, and before he could fairly divine her in- 
tention, with the haughty air of an empress, she had 
left the room. 

^^Egad!” exclaimed the stunned man, ^^that was 
the most splendid piece of acting I have ever seen. 
That woman would make her fortune on the stage. 
By Jove, it was superb. I like her spirit, and, confound 


22 


DIVORCED. 


the iade, I like Her a vast deal better than I did be- 
fore. 

As Neale Voland thus soliloquized, he walked up and 
down the room. I follow her just now,^^ he con- 

tinued, it will spoil her. It is but a contest as to who 
shall rule. I will affect indifference. She is mine, and 
it is only a question of expediency.' 

Then, after a pause — 

She does not return — well, she is high-strung, and 
1 quite put the filly on her mettle. By all that’s 
sacred, rather a stormy wedding night! What would 
Miriam think of this sort of thing? — she, who is always 
so meek and obedient. - But I will not let the lightning 
of this minx’s wrath, and the tempest of her passions, 
overcome me. They may consume themselves, and her, 
too. Of course she dotes on a handsome fellow like 
me — a real lady-killer — an Adonis. She fancies I am 
still her suitor. That is a good joke. The game’s up, 
and I’ve won her hand. Presently the silly creature will 
come to me — patience — well, thank fortune, we are in 
this out-of-the-way Lodge, where our troubles may 
harmlessly expend themselves, and no one the 
wiser.” 

At this moment, a slight rustling of the silken 
velvet portiere caused him to turn, as Hermann, his 
valet, emerged into the room. 

He was met by an angry glance, which the man 
seemed unconscious of, as with a deferential bow, he 
inquired : 


A WEDDIN-G. 


23 


Are you pleased, sir, to require my services before 
you join madame in her apartment? 

Sirrah, no,’^ growled the bridegroom, with a fierce 
scowl — “you will not again intrude upon my privacy, 
unless sent for.” 

A polite bow was the sole response to this sharp re- 
buke ; but no sooner had Hermann left the room than he 
indulged in a little, triumphant chuckle, as the fellow 
pulled out of his pocket a minute note-book, filled with 
little dots : 

“ This is quite a profitable evening for me,” mut- 
tered he. “The entire conversation, that fine scene 
madame enacted, the interesting soliloquy of the Hon- 
orable President of the Terrapin Club,” are all care- 
fully noted. 

“Here is the material of at least two columns of 
society news — racy, too — and, considering the position 
of the parties, it ought to pay well. But, I must hasten 
to make up my letter, that it may be in time for that 
gossiping paper, ^ The EayleJ Ihn half ashamed to 
publish my articles in it, it^s so mis rably conducted. 
Aha! Won’t he be astounded when I call his attention 
to the article — headed ^Marriage Extraordinary in 
High Life’ — and won’t the Club have a worrying time, 
on account of its president ? ” And thus this quasi re- 
porter and stenographer, this faithful valet, served two 
masters. 

“I don’t half like that fellow’s bow,” muttered 
Neale Voland, as he stretched himself full length on a 


DIVORCED. 


24 


silken lounge. ^^He^s too obsequious by half, and next 
time ril kick him well, just to see him bend in earnest,” 
and, as if pleased with the happy conceit, and yielding 
to the luxurious spring of the couch, he was soon lost in 
the sleep of presumable innocence and peace. 


CHAPTER II. 


N^ORA, 


ORA sat in the bridal chamber awaiting the com- 



-hi ing of her young mistress, and a quaint picture 
of a comely old Irishwoman, of the class of upper serv- 
ants, was she. 

She was attired in a bright plaid, blue and crimson 
merino gown, which was made exceedingly wide, and 
the short skirt gathered full upon a belt. This 
best dress had been scrupulously laid away these many 
years, although every spring house-cleaning it was rev- 
erently unwrapped, then, after being well shaken, folded 
back in the same creases, sprinkled with camphor gum, 
placed inside of an old linen pillow-case, and the pillow- 
case with its precious enclosure fastened in a stout 
brown paper bag, when it was once more consigned to 
its corner in the antiquated hair trunk, which Nora 
often declared was ^^intirely valeeless, be token of its 
bein^ a hairloom from the owld counthry." 

On this particular occasion, when the enshrined 
gown had been subjected to a minute and prolonged 
examination, by holding its various breadths well dis- 
played against a strong light, it was clearly to be seen 
that the busy moth had not been idle, having penetrated 


25 


26 


DIVORCED. 


even into this guarded sanctuary, in spite of all the 
precautions taken against the enemy. To be sure, the 
first approaches had been somewhat cautious, for only 
little holes the size of pin heads threaded the texture of 
the garment. But Nora^s indignation was excessive at 
the discovery — 

‘^It’s all the haythenish air of Americky makin’ so 
free wid^ me best duds. In the blissed isle of St. Pawth- 
rick, no baste that flies, iver giv^ me a haperth o^ warri- 
mint.” 

Some thin strands of white hair were combed so 
tightly back as to be scarcely visible, under the deep 
double ruffles of her high white cotton cap, while over 
her shoulders and pinned carefully across her chest was 
a spotless white kerchief. A huge white cross-barred 
muslin apron, which came down to the top of the hem 
of her gown, and reached nearly around her thin waist, 
vied with the cap and the kerchief, in the laundried 
skill displayed. 

There she sat, bolt upright, on the very edge of a 
stiff, liigh-backed, carved chair, as if deprecating its 
use, or her own occupancy of the best bed-room, except 
when duly armed with broom and dust-brush, she would 
at stated intervals, only known to herself, invade this 
spare chamber,” like some priestess of olden days, 
who perform certain rites of exorcism, needed to dissi- 
pate tlie pall-like obscurity which disuse always spreads 
over the trappings of earth. 

It was evident that Nora was not pleased, unless, in- 


NORA. 


27 


deed, she experienced a subdued joy, that there really 
existed good reason for grumbling. 

^^Faix, an^ 1^11 be blissed, ef iver the loikes of sich a 
weddin^ was seen. An^ shure it’s not even a dacint wake, 
nor it is. It’slarnin mad, she is, poor child. She proves 
by her ways, what a bringin’ up that fashun-plate of a 
bordin’-school guv’ her. Them tachers, is'reg’lar tinkers 
at their trade, an’ I’d rayther she’d be iddicated at the 
Lodge to be shure. An’ she’s a purty colleen, she is — 
But whist, and look out for the loikes of him, wid all his 
foine airs, he’s the age on him, to be the fayther ’uvher, 
an’ that good-for-nothin’ spalpeen of a Walley ; shure 
an’ he shows the kind he is, at the ind of his upturned 
nose. The bad drop’s too avidint in his puckered nose. 
An’ does he think to walk in here, all of a suddint, an’ 
make fools of people ? An’ he might go knee-deep in 
mud afore I’d be the wan to guv’ help. He’s a nui- 
sance, an’ he can’t tache me manners, for didened I put 
up my good time twelve year, waitin’ on the nobility of 
Ireland. When I wore my blue aprons checked, an’ 
my green aprons checked, and did sarvice in a 
moral family. I’m jist as handy at makin’ up of 
beds as I was twinty years ago, but I’ll guv’ up 
the place, nor she puts sich over me, for I’m double 
bether nor he.” 

The big low room, was but dimly lighted by two 
waxen candles in the sconce of the toilet glass, and 
Nora now rose to heap together the glowing embers, that 
cast strange shadowy shapes over the walls, so as to stir 


28 


DIVORCED. 


their grotesque flicker into flame. As the old creature 
bent over the Are, she still crooned on: 

Bad omins in the coals, at a marhiage faste, the 
dancin^ lights should hop like a fizzgig, but fastival 
tliere^s none. All the signs is bad, her black dress, the 
dole day ; I told her so. But she^s as wilful as the night 
slie crawled up this werry chimbly, a wee chick of a thing, 
to see for hersell about Saint Nick. Wall, wall, she^s 
choosen Old Nick, and no Saint to fayther him, aW I b^ 
not desaived.'’' 

At this moment, Paulina, throwing open the door, 
hurriedly entered the room, and threw herself across the 
foot of the bed, with low, heart-broken sobs of anguish. 
Not a word was said, but the faithful Nora at once under- 
stood that her darling was in deep trouble, and as she 
knelt beside her, she too, broke forth into a moaning 
wail, expressive of deepest sympathy. 

Then she removed the satin slippers and gently 
rubbed her feet within her thin, worn hands, and kiss- 
ing them softly, whispered — 

Alanna pet, an’ is it a weddin’ nor a wake 

Thus adjured, Paulina sat upon the side of the bed, 
threw her arms round her old nurse’s neck, and sobbed 
out. 

Save me, Nora. He has deceived me. He is a 
divorced man, and oh, Nora, she is not dead.” 

At this, Nora flung her arms wildly round her darl- 
ing and cried bitterly. 

But after a time Paulina, as if determined to con- 


NORA. 


29 


quer her rebellious heart, made a brave effort to calm 
herself, and gently disengaging herself from the faith- 
ful creature, said : 

^‘Nora, we must fly; and this very night. I will 
hide myself where he cannot find me, and never, never 
see him any more — * 

^^An’ where wull we go, pet,^^ she answered, Och, 
an^ may the deevil fly away wid the miserable spalpeen, 
an^ he’s no widdy man afther all — ” 

‘Oh, don’t Nora,” said Paulina, shuddering, “it 
was all my fault; my own foolish fault. I could kill 
myself to have been so foolish. But where shall we go? 
God knows.” 

There was silence for a space, broken by Nora, who 
suddenly exclaimed, in the greatest excitement, as if an 
inspiration had seized her: 

“Me an’ you, pet, must go to Fayther John, that 
baptized ye when ye was a purty babby an’ ye mither 
dead, an’ me the fosther-mither as ye own fayther 
called me — an’ Fayther John will tell us the right an’ 
the wrong of it — ” 

“Father John, who baptized me, Nora,” exclaimed 
Paulina in the greatest astonishment, “why, Nora, 
what do you mean ?” 

“Wull, wull, me pet,” said Nora, shaking her head, 
“it’s a long story to be shure, but misery loves the 
strange bed-fellow, an’ many’s the time I wanted to tell 
ye, me darlint, an’ niver the heart I had. But, to make 
a clane breast of it, it was jist in the way of God’s pro- 


30 


DIVOKCED. 


vidence, an^ it didened happen at all, at all. It was a 
blusterin' mornin’ an^ clouded like rain, an^ I was goin^ 
to communion, an^ I stopped on me way to church to 
see Margaret Maguire an^ tell her of me babby, an’ wish 
her the top of the mornin’. 

^‘^^Nora,’ says she, ‘^shure, ye’re not going to mass 
this dark mornin’ widout takin’ a rumbril, wid ye ?’ 
‘Indade, I am,’ says I, ^an’ not a hair I care for the 
clouds ; shure, the rain could niver affect me none, 
dear.’ 

“‘Take my silk rumbril, Nora,’ says she, ^it be- 
longed to me darter that died, an’ her old man was a 
lokymotive car- tender, so be keerful wid it.’ 

“^God bless ye an’ care ye, Margaret,’ says I, ‘an’ 
I’ll make bowld to take it, an’ I woudened lave it from 
me,’ says I. 

“‘Where would you lave it, Nora?’ said she. 
‘God send ye wit,’ says I. ‘I’d take it for’art to the 
altar rail, anninst me breast under me arrum, an’ 
forninst the middle aisle.’ 

‘“Then take it, Nora,’ says she, ‘an mine ye care 
it.’ 

“So off I skitted wid the silk rumbril, an’ whin 1 
reached St. Pawthrick’s, the throng that was there would 
a scar’t ye. An’ I said to a thin, spare-faced woman, says 
I, ‘plaze mem, would ye care this silk rumbril while I 
go for’art to the altar rail ? ’ 

“ She niver said a word, but took it, an’ put it 
atween me an’ her, restin’ agin the wall, canny enough. 


NORA. 


31 


along wid her own blue cotton one. ^Will ye care that 
now, plaze mem says I, seein^ at the time a strange- 
lookin^ woman next her, wid three rumbrils under her 
arrum. An She I mistrusted. 

^"So sayin^ I wint for'art to the altar rail.. Whin I 
come back I looked for the rumbril, an^ blist but it was 
gone ! 

Whereas me rumbril mem ?’ says I; Svill ye be 
plazed to hand it to me ? ^ ^ I don^t know says she, 

‘where it wint to.^ 

“‘Blast ye,^ says I, ‘an^ I as’t ye to moind it.^ . 

“‘An who made me ye rumbril tender?’ says she, 
scornful loike. 

“ Then I skitted from seat to seat, an I as’t won an’ 
anither, up an’ down the aisles, till I war starved lookin’ 
for it ; whin all of a suddint I spied stannin’ agin’ the 
wall a bran noo rumbril. ‘ Heavin be thank’t ’ says I, ‘ an’ 
I can’t find mine I’ll take to this one.’ So up I boned 
and took it. Jist thin, Jimmy, the sexton, looked at 
me hard, an’ I lift the church. I didened go back to 
Margaret Maguire’s for that day, for I knowed me babby 
would be worritin’ for me, an’ me time war up. An’ I 
hurried back to me purty babby. That was ye, me 
pet. 

“ But the rumbril stuck to me sowl, and worked me 
conscience, an’ wouden’t let me rist, an’ I took ye, that 
was me babby, in me arrums an’ wint back to the 
church. 

“ Now Fayther John was stannin’ at the door of the 


32 


DIVORCED. 


sacristy as I wint by, an^ seein’ me comin^ two steps to- 
wards him, he thought I wanted to buy somethin^ at 
the fair, that was goin^ on in the basemint ; and ‘ Nora’ 
says he, ‘what do ye want to buy ?’ ‘I’ll buy nothin’ 
yer rivrince,’ says I, ‘nor more than its tin cints for 
a raffle chance of that velvet bonnet,’ says 1, ‘but 
plaze yer rivrince. I’ve got this silk rumbril to guv 
back, for it’s stickin’to me sowl, it is.’ Thin I told his 
rivrince the story how they took from me in the church, 
an in the holy time too, the rumbril that belonged to 
the sow] that’s gone, an’ she more by token the wife of 
the railroad car conductor. An’ his rivrince says : 

“‘Lave the rumbril wid the sexton, an’ he’ll furrit 
out the ruffin that’s stole your’n’ — But he nivir 
did, for the rumbril’s past recovery and gone now, to 
this day twinty years, pet. — But the Lord would have 
it so, for when Fayther John, looked at ye, me babby, 
he said — 

“ ‘That’s a foine child, Nora.’ 

“‘More, by token, yer rivrince,’ says I, ‘she’s a 
purty colleen, for a haythen.’ 

“‘A haythen!’ says Father John, ‘poor thing! 
poor thing ! you don’t say she’s not baptized ? ’ 

“ An’ he took ye in his arrum’s, an’ ye put ye little 
arrum round his neck, an’ coo like a dove — an’ he dropt 
a tear on ye little head, as I told him, how ye mither’s 
dead, an ye fayther too busy to mind much o’ ye — 
“An’ whin I see the tear glistenin’ on ye little head, 
I said — 


1?0RA. 


33 


"" "Fayther John, guv" her the waters of baptism, an" 
her passport to heaven." 

'^And he held ye in his arrums as if a thinkin" an" 
prayin", whin he says — 

not refuse lier the gates of Paradise ;" an" he 
took ye to the font, an" I stood as ye God-mither, pet, 
an" he baptized ye Paulina Mary, an" it was all the prov- 
idence of that silk rumbril, me pet — so don"t be angry 
wid yer poor Nora."" 

During this interminable, rambling narration, Pau- 
lina listened listlessly, as one might to the monotonous 
ticking of a family clock. When Nora had at last made 
her confession, and informed her of the remarkable fact 
that she had not only been baptized by a Catholic priest, 
but that she was in addition the God-daughter of her 
old nurse, Nora, Paulina was actually relieved, such 
was her despairing state of mind, to find that there was 
a nearer tie than she had imagined, that bound her to 
the faithful creature at her side. Doubtless, under 
other circumstances, she would have received this infor- 
mation with no little displeasure, even in its absurd 
setting. 

But now it was otherwise, for she only replied : Be 
quiet a little, Nora, and let me think."" 

It is bether to think, me pet,"" said Nora, wid 
the feet warrum agin" the fire, so as the heat strikes 
innards on the intelleck."" So saying, she wheeled an 
arm-chair, placing it in position so that Paulina could 
be comfortable, then leading her to its cushioned depths. 


34 


DIVORCED. 


she seated herself quite out of sight, in a remote corner 
of the room, first closing the door, which in Paulina^s 
hurried entrance had been left ajar. This delicate appre- 
ciation of Paulina^s needs was beyond any grace borrowed 
from cultivation, and was the spontaneous outpouring 
of the humble creature^s heart. 

True affection has always, in all conditions of life, 
intuitions, that, when trouble comes, brings the rich 
and the poor, the high born and the lowly, the ignorant 
and the educated, into sympathetic relations. 

As Paulina sank back into the luxurious fan teuil, she 
was insensibly somewhat tranquilized, as Nora knew she 
would be, by the cheering warmth diffused, and the ros- 
eate light of the glowing embers. She tried to calm the 
wild throbbings of her heart and ask herself what was 
wisesttodo. “Wisdom,” she muttered, “its uses, are past 
forme. Mine was a fool’s leap in the dark. Be still, my 
heart — I hate the man who has so cruelly deceived me. 
I would fiy to the uttermost parts of the earth to escape 
him. To live with him, would be a living death ; but 
my head aches, I cannot think, I am tossed about by 
the swirl of the tempest. I cannot see my way, I cannot 
reason, and who will advise me in this instant need of 
action ? Alas, I know not. My good guardian is in 
Europe. I have no friends — lam but a lonely, wrecked, 
orphan girl” — and bowing her head, she wept. 

Nora had remained very still till now, but she could 
not bear to hear those sad, low sobs, and she went to her 
mistress and knelt beside her. 


NORA. 


35 


Nora’s here/’ slie said, “ to do her jDet’s badden. 
The trunk’s all packed for the vy’age, an’ we can jist 
skit olf bether widout him nor wid him. Nor wu’d I be 
thinkin’ long afther him, the spalpeen.” 

Mj good Nora,” said Paulina, we will go in the 
morning, and take counsel of Father John. AVhen 
wc leave here, it will be an easy matter to direct about 
the luggage.” 

An’ now the Lord be praised an’ all His saints, an’ 
Mathoo, Mark, Luke, an’ John, an’ blissing’s on ye 
purty livil head, an’ God be thank’t for that Providence 
of the rumbril that’s gone past recovery, now these 
twinty years,” exclaimed Nora all in one breath. Once 
decided, Paulina became more composed, and Nora soon 
busied herself in the immediate preparations for their 
probable departure. 

But first of all she stepped out quietly, to inform 
herself as to the movements of the enemy, as a sort of 
reconnoissance on the eve of battle. 

She had the advantage of knowing her ground well, 
and she presently got a glimpse, without being herself 
seen, of the valet, who was busy writing. Casting a 
glance of ineffable disdain upon /n'm, she then stole on 
tip-toe to the drawing room, and from within the heavy 
folds of the velvetporHe?r, she beheld with amazement, 
the bridegroom fast asleep on the silken lounge. 

She was not displeased that he was sleeping, but her 
indignation to see his boots carelessly defacing that im- 
maculate piece of furniture knew no bomjds. 


36 


DIVORCED. 


‘ ' Faix, an'’ it racks me nervous system intirely, the 
loikes of that in this house, an^ the fayther of her, God. 
rist his sowl, he^s dead now and in the clay, he^’d. nivir 
took his naps on the sofy, leastwise wid his brogans on 
loike a brackish boor. But this one means to put a dis- 
respeck on the house, an'’ I could, wop the mug off him, 
so I could, an^ he, slaypin, so innocent, he the gay 
dasaver, aiF me purty babby jist kilt wid, the heart-break 
he^s guv'’ her.-” 

If at this moment Neale Voland. had. opened, his 
closed eyes he would, have seen extended towards him a 
bared, wrinkled arm, and a shriveled, closed u}! fist, 
shaken in a menacing wa}^ within an inch of his classic 
nose, for with a momentary and almost insane impulse, 
Nora had made a rush at him, but retreated, remem- 
bering her darling, just as he turned somewhat uneasily 
on his narrow couch. 

‘^Slape on, ye' gay Laferio,” she grumbled, ‘^Avliin 
the last trump blows ye'll be wan to skit wid de goats to 
the lift. Nora will do ye no harrum, but lave ye to His 
providence.'' 

Truly, the seared conscience rests easy, it is the liv- 
ing sonl of innocence that grieves. 

During the long watches of that night, Paulina re- 
mained immovable, nor was she conscious of the flight 
of time. 

The hall clock struck the midnight hour, and that 
eventful day Avhich should have found her a happy 
bride, but which had brought to her so much misery, 


NORA. 


37 


had dropped into the dark abyss of the past, and ushered 
to her a darkened future. 

In the summing up of a lifetime, how few hours 
after all are of supreme importance, or have ever been 
given to serious thoughts. The most of mankind liter- 
ally live only from hour to hour, not thinking of the 
p^ist, and caring still less for the future. 

The physical needs, the demands of the senses, ex- 
ternal conditions, dominate. He alone, has lived to some 
purpose, who has been forced to self-examination. 

Paulina commenced to question herself, and to 
realize that she had now entered upon a very serious 
phase of existence. 

The lightheartedness, the impulsiveness, the senti- 
mentalism of an unchecked and unclieckered girlhood, 
were now tried in the purifying alembic of affliction. 

The copious tears shed that night fell like the 
waters distilled from out the opening masses of dark 
clouds, in pure and vivifying graces upon the parclied 
soul. 

She resolved to begin life anew, and for the first time, 
the incense of prayer arose in her hitherto arid spirit, 
and she asked for light to know, and strength to do, 
what was right. 


CHAPTEE III. 


FATHER JOHN. 


F ather JOHN TYRCOENELL had said his iive 
o^clock mass at old St. Patrick's, and the elect few 
out of his large congregation who alwa^'S assisted, rain 
or shine all the year round, at the holy sacrifice, were 
still on their knees in the cold church, meditating upon 
the wonderful mysteries of their faith, and the priest 
was making his thanksgiving, when two women alighted 
from a handsome carriage, and hurriedly entered the 
church by one of the side doors. 

The younger was tall, but of a slight figure and grace- 
ful bearing. She was closely veiled, and warmly wrap- 
ped in a long fur-lined silk cloak, for a November 
morning is apt to be chill and damp. 

The elder person was thin, somewhat bent, and wore 
the inevitable red cross-barred blanket shawl, quilted 
black silk hood, long, full apron, and blue stuff gown, of 
the Irishwomen of her class. She led the way, as one 
familiar with the place, for where do the poor feel so 
much at home, as in their Father’s house, within whose 
portals He ever rests to await their coming. 

Making as free use of the holy water that filled a 
marble font as if performing an ablution, and well 
38 


FATHER JOHH. 


39 


sprinkling her companion, evidently considering her in 
need of abundant exorcisms, she then motioned her to 
the nearest seat, and making a deep genuflection took a 
place at her side. 

Presently the priest rose from his prie-Dieu, and 
leaving the sanctuary, passed down the main aisle to 
the door. 

Then Nora, for she it was, hastily followed, and 
they met just outside on the church steps. Paulina 
accompanied her. 

Fayther John, the top of the mornin^ to yer 
rivhince,'’^ said Nora, curtsying low. ^^This leddy 
hereby, wud fain spake to ye, an^ she be none ither yer 
rivTince, than ye own blissed babby of twinty years 
agone. A shape in the fold, she is, Fayther, at this 
ilivinth hour.” 

There was a merry twinkle in Father John’s mild 
blue eye, as thus quaintly introduced he bowed to 
Paulina, taking in at once the full meaning of Nora’s 
dialect. 

^"Pray Miss,” said he, accompany Nora, and come 
with me into the sacristy, out of this raw, blustering 
air;” and so saying, he led the way, descending the 
stone steps, and walked rapidly along the side of the 
long building to the rear end, where the sacristy was 
built as a small adjunct to the main ediflce. 

Opening the door of this room. Father John bade 
them enter with a hearty manner that gave full wel- 


come. 


40 


DIVORCED. 


There was no hint to them that he was fasting and 
needed to be refreshed, for the priest was never in tlie 
habit of thinking of himself at all, and he was ever 
ready to attend to the wants of others. 

These needs, amid a large congregation of poor people 
who had a hand to hand unceasing struggle for the privi- 
lege of living, were never ending. To minister unto 
these children of his Father, he must also bear a daily 
cross, and the spirit of sacrifice with the practice of self- 
denial, formed the rule of his life. This occasion was 
therefore of daily occurrence. His name indicated his 
lineage, but he was a native born American of Irish de- 
scent. He was thus peculiarly fitted for his charge, 
for although with the inherited wit of his Irish blood, 
he quite understood his people ; yet he was himself in- 
tensely American, an ardent patriot and admirer of our 
free institutions. 

This combination made him a very safe guide in 
times of popular turbulence such as ours. He was 
rather stoutly built and not ascetic in appearance, hav- 
ing a fiorid complexion. Indeed, the deep tinge of 
color, his quick speech and nervous movements, indi- 
cated energy and strength of character. 

His voice was very vibrating and resonant, and his 
open, smooth forehead, unfurrowed by wrinkles, al- 
though his thick shock of unruly hair was tinged with 
gray, denoted peace of mind and a benevolent disposi- 
tion. 

But that magnetic charm that made all hearts re- 


FATHER JOHN. 


41 


spond when he appealed, dwelt in the flexible tones of 
his sympathetic voice, which the moment Paulina 
heard, won her confidence. 

It was never precisely what he said, but the manner 
of saying it, that made his utterances fall upon the 
hearts of his hearers with such telling force. 

As they entered the sacristy, Nora^’s hitherto pent up 
feelings culminated, as the drama of the umbrella 
which had terminated in this very spot, by Paulina^s 
baptism, all came before her with the vivid power with 
which this impressionable race recall scenes that have 
taken any hold upon their fancy. 

She burst forth into fervent ejaculations: 

“ Blissed be the providence, an^ me, an^ he, an^ she, 
agin here aiP it, alone astray, indicating, that if the 
aforesaid ‘‘it,” namely the lost umbrella, would only 
walk in and take its place, the dramatis personcB of the 
play would all be there. 

But as Paulina stood there, she, too, was strangely 
moved at that overruling destiny, that once more after 
an interval of a score of years placed her in this very 
room, one of the very same group of which she had 
before been the central object. 

Interrupting the course of the woman^s incoherent 
exclamations, she said, with feeling: 

Nora tells me, sir, that twenty years ago you took 
me, a motherless babe, out of her arms, and ba])tized me 
Paulina Mary.^^ 

Is it possible that, after this score of years, you re- 


42 


DIVORCED. 


turn to the fold, which you then entered?^’ replied the 
priest much moved. “ If so, thanks be to the dear 
Lord and his Blessed Mother for this grace. I was then 
but young, myself, and my heart was touched at your 
infantile helplessness, when I yielded to the impulse 
that stirred within me, as well as to Nora^s entreaties, 
and I gave you the holy, regenerating rite.” 

As these joyous, earnest words thrilled through Pau- 
lina^s heart, she could not but experience a regret, that 
she must disappoint these expectations; and as the real 
object of the visit now confronted her, she shrank back 
appalled, as if some huge kraken had suddenly arisen 
out of the mists of ages, to destroy all the bright promise 
of her youth. 

I grieve, sir,” she sadly answered, ‘^that the ob- 
ject of my visit cannot confirm your hopes in my re- 
gard. But I am led here, by an impulse I can neither 
define nor control, to tell you the weary story of the 
mistake of a life, and to take counsel of your wisdom.” 

Then Paulina made a sort of general confession, 
commencing with the recital of the wilful moods of her 
childhood, describing the unrestrained impulses of her 
girlhood, and ending with this bitter experience of an 
early womanhood. 

Had she stopped to analyze her motives, to ask her- 
self, why she should unravel the course of her life to 
this stranger, she would have found it impossible to 
give any satisfactory explanation of her own act. She 
was not a Catholic, and the gift of faith had not ilium i- 


FATHER JOHH. 


43 


nated her soul, so why should she seek to be iuflueuced 
by this man, who had rather, according to her own 
views of things, done her a wrong ? 

The answer may be found when we can more fully 
understand how much of the warp and woof of life, 
how far the network that surrounds us, and within 
which we move onward, is worked out for us, and to 
what extent we create for ourselves a destiny. 

This is a fine point and a mystery, within which is 
hidden the riddle of one’s very existence. 

Some shallow minds define it as fate, and rest upon 
the mere nothing of an unmeaning word; others who 
read with deeper insight, the import of the ever-shift- 
ing scene, recognize a higher power. 

During this long narrative. Father John never inter- 
rupted, by a single word or comment, the thread of 
the story; but as it progressed, his expressive counte- 
nance indicated that he perfectly measured the nature 
thus portrayed. 

It was clear that he understood Paulina, and she felt 
that he did so, and would be able to judge wisely the 
case laid before him. As she proceeded, his face grew 
very grave and sorrowful, and when, at last, the dark 
shadow cast athwart the opening bloom of youth was 
made manifest, he was filled with pity for her misfor- 
tune. 

Ah,” sighed he, as if to himself ^‘it is but one phase, 
ever recurring, of the evils growing out of the fatal 
liberty of divorce. This hydra-headed monster takes on 


44 


DIVORCED. 


all shapes, this canker worm must sooner or later de- 
stroy the integrity of society, and lead our civilization 
to its decline. 

“Dear sir/^ said Paulina, “ I cannot say that I am 
affected with religious scruples on the subject of divorce. 

1 liad never, indeed, given the matter any attention, until 
suddenly it was brought home to me with such terrible 
force. 

“ I was, as it were, transported beyond the realities 
of life, by the indulgence of my own idealisms ; so that 
the man whose wife I promised to become was uplifted, 
in my heated imagination, to a sort of demi-god. 

“ When I too late discovered, although in the very 
flush of my exaltation, that I had been deceived, the re- 
action was in proportion to my over- wrought state of 
mind. My hero was not only dethroned, but he whom 
I had invested with all virtues, inspired me with absolute 
dislike. In addition, my whole nature revolts against 
the miserable situation in which I am unexpectedly 
placed, for I find myself, as if I were the inmate of an 
Eastern harem, but the successor of another woman who 
is still living. 

‘‘ The spirituality of my marriage is thus destroyed, 
and that innate delicacy of sentiment, which would have 
formed my highest happiness, is outraged. I am so 
constituted that I could not endure the existence of 
such relations. The continuance of this manner of life 
would kill me.'’^ 

“I can well comprehend,^’ replied Father John, 


FATHER JOHH. 


45 


that the exceeding delicacy, which is at once the glory 
and the charm of a refined woman’s nature, has been 
shocked in your case, but yet, I do not exactly 
understand why it is that you come to me in your 
distress. In what way, poor child, can I be of service 
to you?’’ 

As he asked this question, there was a wistful, pa- 
thetic tone in the clear cadence of that voice. 

“I hope, dear Father,” answered Paulina (forgetful, 
under that magnetic power, that she had intended only 
to address him as Sir), to receive from you some satis- 
factory answer where my own ignorance is cruelly per- 
plexing. I cannot, for instance, in view of having made 
my marriage vows under an entire misapprehension of 
the true situation of my spouse, decide as to whether I 
am married or not married.” 

^^My child,” replied he, ‘‘1 ainnot a learned casuist, 
skilled in ethics, who may be appealed to for the eluci- 
dation of a mooted point, and, curiously enough, the 
question that has arisen in your mind, involves some of 
the nicest subtleties of the schools. 

‘^Personally, I can have no private opinion on these 
subjects. But fortunately, the Catholic church, whose 
humble minister I am, has defined certain rules, which 
enable us to decide. She has raised marriage, in obedi- 
ence to the mandate of Jesus Christ, to the dignity of a 
sacrament. 

“ It is first of all, an indissoluble union, contracted by 
mutual consent; and this indissolubility arises not only 


46 


DIVOKCED. 


from the nature of the tie, but from the express law of 
Almighty God. 

^‘ By the divine law this sacred bond must subsist in 
full force, and cannot be dissolved, ivitli liberty of re- 
marriagey by any human law or other authority, while 
both the parties remain in life. 

“Then marriage may also be considered as a natural 
contract, and God Himself so ordained it, since He 
created both the sexes on purpose to be united to each 
other. Moreover, marriage is also a civil contract, to be 
made according to the laws of the country where tlie 
parties dwell, so that order and peace maybe firmly estab- 
lished throughout the land; but this civil contract, in the 
order of things, should always be regulated by a higher 
law, and in submission to its decrees. Whenever this 
happy union of the divine and human law exists, laws 
doubly guarding the integrity of marriage, the peace, 
virtue and security of society, are held intact, and untold 
evils prevented. 

“In your sad case, my poor child, judged by these 
rules, I do not hesitate to say that you would commit a 
grievous sin to live with this man as his wife. Thank 
God the refinement of your nature, your subtle percep- 
tion, and the sensitiveness of your feelings have saved 
you from the consummation of such a contract. 

“ According to the divine law you are free, for the 
church has established the cases where nullity may be 
said to exist ; and your union may be so defined, for by 
the canon law, these causes which concern the validity 


FATHER JOHN. 


47 


of marriage, properly belong to the ecclesiastical judges. 
Still, as you have entered into this union in the light of 
a civil contract, in order to free yourself from this obli- 
gation, you must seek the redress of the civil law. In 
fact, my child, it is your duty to use all diligence in 
obtaining your freedom. You are bound to remain per- 
sistently separated from this man, whatever may be the 
result of your efforts to secure a legal divorce. 

As to the metaphysical question involved of an 
implied coercion of the will, in consequence of a 
misapprehension on your part, I am inclined to 
think that this error of yours, other conditions be- 
ing admissible, will not free you from the obliga- 
tions you have contracted. Your will was not forced ; 
there existed no absolute physical coercion, nor moral 
violence by open, absolute falsehood. On the other 
hand, you were not free from blame, you were precipi- 
tate, very rash, and did not exercise discreet judgment, 
such as the importance of the act demanded. While it 
is true that you were deceived, and I can understand 
that you must naturally refuse your respect and affec- 
tion to one who would allow you to infer what was not 
true, in order to take advantage of your mistake to ob- 
tain you as his, yet a mere misapprehension, however 
distasteful, cannot be said to constitute just cause for 
nullity. 

Father John paused. He had spoken plainl}*^ 
naught extenuating. Paulina recognized, that on the 
mere casuistry of a misconception, she could not expect 


48 


DIVORCED. 


to demand the abrogation of her promise. But, like the 
majority of those who seek advice, she was not prepared 
to change her views. 

I find,^^ she said, this marriage so hateful, that I 
have thought not to return to my home, never to meet 
my so-called husband again, and in fact to fly to some 
secret place, and, she added bursting into tears, “in the 
hope to forever live secluded and secure from being har- 
assed by his presence. 

“ Allow me once more to advise you,^^ said Father 
John, “and to beg you to do none of these things. 
You are at present in too excited a state of mind to act 
with due discretion. Unfortunately, the mistake you 
have already made may, in spite of all you can do, ex- 
ercise a disastrous influence over your future life. It is 
impossible, humanly speaking, to predict the result; but 
whatever course you may pursue, I entreat you to act 
openly and above board. Eeturn home, ask for an in- 
terview which can be a final one, and in the presence of 
good Nora here, announce to this man that you intend 
to seek a legal dissolution of the civil contract. After 
this, you can openly consult lawyers as to the proper 
measures to be taken. I am not an expounder of hu- 
man law and must leave you to consult legal advisers; 
but do not forget, my child, that in all Christian nations 
the divine law should be held paramount, that in fact it 
is so throughout the universe, whether so recognized or 
not, and if you are guided by this light, you will be safe.” 

“Good-bye, Father,” said Paulina, weeping; “pray 


FATHER 


49 


that I may have the moral courage to act according to 
my convictions/^ 

As Paulina and Nora re-entered their carriage, and 
were driven rapidly homeward. Father John, forgetting 
that he had not broken his fast since the night before, 
again sought the sanctuary, where he was soon absorbed 
in prayer. 

Now Nora was, after all, much disappointed with 
the final result of this interview, which she had so re- 
joiced to have brought about. She had, without know- 
ing it, built up in her imagination the pleasing excite- 
ment of a hurried flight with her young mistress ; and 
had she not even dreamed all about it? The faithful 
Sancho Panza was not more ready than was she to 
share all the extraordinary hazards, that might arise out 
of any desperate adventure into which her female Don 
Quixote might be plunged. 

Every woman, be she young or old, comely or 
homely, ignorant or learned, impassive or impulsive, 
has hidden away in the depths of her nature a leaven of 
idealism. This working-day world of ours has every- 
where its Marthas, who may be kept in strict repression 
by an infinitude of unceasing cares, nor does the wear 
and tear of daily toil, that holds them in the narrow 
circle of their duties, leave time for fanciful specula- 
tions. But, if by any happy chance these conditions 
change, they are ever ready at once to indulge in ex- 
travagant hopes, expectations and plans, such as would 
previously have surprised themselves, 

4 


50 


DIVORCED. 


Although the domestic life of woman may limit her 
sphere of action, yet she seems ever ready to take higher 
flight, and accept as probable, what man would be in- 
clined to reject as unreal or impossible. 

During the past night, Nora’s few hours of sleep had 
been fllled with the wildest dreams, which were so 
vivid as to mix themselves up with her waking thoughts 
in inextricable confusion. As is often the case with 
ignorant people, she attached special importance to 
these dreams as foretelling the future. Some way she 
felt sure that Father John would give advice that would 
confirm these dreams and make them come true. 

Yet, here they were, going back to the same place, 
and, as it seemed to her, to pick up the tangled threads 
and straighten them out quietly without violent change. 
What with her reverence for Father J ohn, and her ex- 
asperation at his advice, she was sore perplexed. 

Wait till the turn of tlie day me pet,” she gravely 
said, shaking her head, wise as an owl, ^^an’ it wull all 
come right in time, leastwise there’s no vartue in 
drames — an’ drames, me pet, is to be deemed weighty; 
an’ by token of me drames, I made shure of a vy’age — 
for did I not drame an’ wid wan eye see meself, pet, an’ ye 
too, a sailin’ away forninst the owld counthry. An’ as 
the Ian’ was laving us, I see that witless Walley makiii’ 
signs at me an’ you, to take him overboard. ^Indade, 
and we wull not,’ I shouted; ^an’ ar ye too owld intirely, 
nor is it too proud ye are, that ye must travil for a livin.’ 
An’ wid me wan slapein’ eye, I see that spalpeen of a 


FATHER JOHN. 


51 


Wally, jist spin roun^ an’ roun’, he was that mad to be 
lift. An’ I spake at him from over the waste of wathers. 
‘ Humph,’ says I, ‘are ye a gintlemon brid an’ born to 
be trated wid sich considerashun.’ 

“Thin he cried out, ‘Foolish ooman, at the ind, 
whin ye misthress nades me, out of this I’ll spake the 
glide word for her.’ An’ thin he hild anninst me-eyes, a 
paper full of dots, whin me an ye, pet” — 

“For heaven’s sake, be quiet, Nora,” interrupted 
Paulina. “ Is this a time to be telling me about your 
senseless dreams, that mean nothing? ” 

“ Och, me pet, but drames is weighty,” repeated 
Nora, relapsing into a silence which was not again 
broken. 


CHAPTER IV. 


separation. 

A BSOLUTELY a new, uncomfortable sensation, 
my first sunrise/^ soliloquized Neale Voland, as 
he stood in the bay window of the drawing-room, with 
his hands folded behind him, gazing listlessly at the 
sky, with a sort of critical look, as if he might be but a 
transient visitor from some other planet. 

Long stretches of thin, light, curling clouds, so del- 
icately penciled across the faint blue of the horizon, so 
varying in shape, some, like shadowy, trailing tresses 
of maiden^s wraiths, swept sailing by, on into illimitable 
space ; while others, of tangled, fibrous forms, frowned 
down like matted Gorgon heads ; and above all, beyond 
the fogs of earth, rose-tinged hues were softly blended 
with the infinite depths of the higher heavens. The dark 
curtain of night-cloud lifted slowly this dull November 
morning, and the creeping mists that had hung over 
the earth during tlie night, were scarcely dissipated by 
the obscured beams of the sun. 

The picture presented by the Great Artist was not 
approved of by the blase society mau. lie turned con- 
temptuously away with a sneer, for it is not ^^good 
form ” ever to be enthused. Nil admirari” is the motto 
of fashionable society. 


53 


SEPARATION'. 


53 


rather see ghosts at midnight, that is, if they 
were pretty,” said he, disdainfully, than this leaden 
sunrise. 

“ ‘ I find this scene that poets sing. 

Is but a dismal, blasted thing-- ’ ” 

My master is pleased to be poetical on his bridal 
morn,” suggested his valet, who that moment appeared, 
with a cringing manner, that seemed to deprecate any 
pointed force his words might convey. 

^^Andwhothe devil asked opinion?” retorted 
the master angrily. literary varlet is by all odds 

a product of the nineteenth century;” and, he added 
with a jeer, the next sensation provided for the pub- 
lic will be a news column headed, Original notes by a 
sentimental valet.” 

The man bowed low, so low that the snarling curve 
of the mouth was not noticeable: — 

Truth, sir, ” observed he very softly, ^^is said to 
be stranger than fiction.” 

Aphorisms, egad!” exclaimed the master. ^‘This 
thing grows tiresome. I vastly prefer a parrot to a 
conversational servant. Why are you here at all?” 

Did you not ring, sir?” 

^^True, true; whydidnT you come sooner — why not 
at once ? ” 

was at the porte-cochere, in attendance on 
madame.” 

I donT quite understand you,” said Neale Voland, 
flushing just a little in spite of his effort to look 


54 


DIVORCED. 


unconcerned, ‘"Don’t dare to speaK in riddles to 
me.” 

“ I have told the exact truth sir,” answered he. 

“Well, fellow, go on.” 

“ What do you wish to know sir? ” inquired he. 

“You are a booby; where was madame going?” 

“ I did not ask her sir. She drove off without 
deigning to notice me.” 

“ In what direction did sue go?” 

“ I did not note the point of compass, sir.” 

“ Damn you!” thundered Neale, forgetting at the 
moment that "a gentleman never swears, “ do you take 
me for a grand inquisitor, and compel me to extort a 
statement from you inch by inch?” 

“ All I know sir,” said the man coolly, “is that ma- 
dame drove off in her clarence with Nora, and it may 
be fifteen minutes now since they have gone.” 

Neale Voland sat down for a moment, as if to con- 
centrate his thoughts ; then he said, in a business way, 
“ Hermann, go at once to the office of The Eagle, Ask 
them not to insert the announcement of my marriage 
sent them yesterday for publication this morning. 
Here is a ten dollar bill to pay for the space which was 
to have been used. But, at whatever cost, insist on the 
notice being withdrawn. Take my coupe, so as to go 
with speed, and, above all, lose no time. You can, if 
you drive rapidly, reach town in twenty minutes.” 

The valet at once disappeared, but scarcely quickly 
enough to hide the broad grin on his face. 


SEPARATIOJ^. 


55 


I fancy that fellow dared to smile, but he would 
not surely venture that far, with me,^^ muttered his 
employer. 

Scarcely was he certain of being alone, than all his 
assumed indifference gave way to the most uncontrollable 
rage. He made immense strides up and down the apart- 
ment, gesticulating wildly and calling down the most 
frightful imprecations on all women, and in especial 
on Miriam, his divorced wife, for continuing to live, 
seeing how much she was in his way, and then on Pau- 
lina, upon whose devoted head he vowed direst vengeance. 

But as this fury somewhat spent itself, he found 
consolation in the fact that, at all events, the marriage of 
last evening had been kept in a manner secret, and that 
he would continue to hold back the announcement un- 
til he could carry out his original programme, bring his 
recreant bride to terms, establish her as the mistress of 
his fine town house, and introduce her properly to an 
admiring world. 

Then came the stunning reflection, all too late, that 
she must have fled, and with it, the tantalizing question, 
whither ? 

‘^Fool that I was,” hissed he, ^Hhus to misjudge 
her. I thought that she was so in love with me that 
she would before now have sought my presence. I 
like her pride full well, for it gives a zest to suc- 
cess. Of course she loves me, why else did she marry 
me. She is her own mistress and wealthy, and she 
seemed infatuated. I am always a social success, and 


56 


DIVORCED. 


why should I be baffled now ? It is too absurd that I 
should be even uneasy, for is she not mine ? It is only 
a question of time. She did say she would ask for a 
divorce. That looks ugly, for a divorce, as we all know, 
is an easy thing to procure, and she is young, clever and 
beautiful, and the world moves on easy hinges to such. 
I should have wooed her abjectly, for beauty requires 
the homage of slaves. Yes, it must have been a shock 
to her pride to hear of my poor Miriam, and she does 
not know even the beginning. If she did — ugh ! she 
might hate me, handsome fellow as I am, debonair, and 
received everywhere. 

These and many similar reflections filled up the 
measure of an hour, at the expiration of which Her- 
mann returned and reported that he had caused the 
withdrawal of the marriage announcement, sent by his 
master. 

“ Capital,” said Neale aloud, rubbing his hands. 

The silver lining to the cloud appears, and now the 
world cannot sneer at us, and time is all that is needed.” 

“1 have brought a copy of the paper with me, sir ; 
would you care to see it ?” So saying, the valet lianded 
the journal folded in such a way, that a heading in extra 
large type at once caught his master’s eye: 

MARRIAGE EXTRAORDINARY IN HIGH LIFE. 

Mr. Neale Voland, the accomplished president of 
the Terrapin Club, and brilliant social leader, whose 
very recent divorce from an interesting lady (who at one 
time some years ago presided over his elegant establish- 


SEPARATIOK. 


5 ? 


ment) caused so mncli surprise, has again led to the 
hymeneal altar the wealthy and beautiful heiress of 
Hazlehurst, Miss Paulina Peyton. It is said that this 
marriage is attended with some circumstances of very 
romantic interest. The ceremony was performed at dusk 
last evening, at Hazlehurst, the residence of the bride, 
in the presence of only two witnesses. The bride was 
in mourning, it is hinted, out of respect to the memory 
of the late departed. We are sorry to have to intimate the 
existence of a painful rumor, which we simply give for 
wha^ it is worth, that a virtual separation took place 
immediately succeeding the marriage, and that proba- 
bly a divorce will soon be instituted, which promises to 
become une cause celehre, and in the course of which 
some extraordinary developments may be expected. 
May we be pardoned, if we express the hope, that if this 
second venture on the sea of matrimony proves in- 
felicitous, so excellent a gentleman may still find that 
domestic bliss he is so peculiarly fitted to enjoy, in any 
future alliances he may contract. 

As Neale Voland read this choice bit of gossip, so 
barbed with malice, so replete with insolent suggestion, 
and yet with its gossamer web of truth so skillfully in- 
terwoven throughout its lines, as to make it difficult of 
contradiction, deep as his sin had been, the punishment 
was commensurate. 

The satisfaction which his amiable valet experienced 
as he watched his master’s varying countenance under 
the infliction, may be well compared to that of the dex- 
terous spider that has ensnared its prey, pierced it with 
its fang, instilled the poisonous liquid, and then se- 
renely observes its convulsions of pain. 


58 


DIVORCED. 


This is an infamous libel/’ muttered Neale Voland, 
crushing the paper in his hands, with a strong grip 
that meant more than words. “ The society reporter is 
ubiquitous. He sees much, invents more, and an in- 
satiate public believes everything. Nor can any man 
find adequate redress when his private affairs are out- 
rageously ventilated, because the very grievance is by its 
own nature in the publicity attached.” 

Neale Voland quite overlooked, in making these an- 
gry comments, that this very publicity he complained 
of, was a salutary check to evil doers. Yet the appalling 
fact remained, and he clearly recognized it, that there 
was a society reporter of a leading journal who had an 
intimate knowledge, however obtained, of his move- 
ments, and was ready to make his information public. 
His perplexity on this point was so great, that for the 
moment it overcame all personal feelings. But in the 
midst of these vague and tantalizing speculations, the 
idea of a household spy never for a moment presented 
itself to his imagination. And it was well for the lin- 
gering valet, who seemed so anxious to express his con- 
cern, that it did not. Yet an astute man of the world, 
once aroused and on his guard, was a dangerous enemy 
to deal with. One thing was certain, amid the perplex- 
ity of so many confusing emotions, and that was : the 
necessity of propitiating Paulina, at whatever cost. 

He tried to console himself too, by reflecting that 
his marriage was a splendid one ; and when his shrew 
was tamed, slie would preside magnificently over his fine 


SEPARATION". 


59 


town house. This is a superb country seat, he thought, 
and the ample means of my bride added, will make my 
own more modest income equal to any society demands. 

Then it is an easy thing, when one has a splendid 
establishment in town and country, to frown down, yes, 
to stamp out (and involuntarily he suited the action 
to the word) all who dare gossip about one in any dis- 
agreeable way. 

At this moment, oppressed by the conflicting tumult 
of feeling, he strode to a window and threw it open, as 
if to gain new courage from the fresh air, when he 
caught a glimpse of Paulina’s carriage just entering the 
long avenue of trees that led to the mansion. 

Transported with delight, for every reason, at such 
an unlooked-for boon as this speedy return, and deter- 
mined to force a reconciliation by the most persistent 
suit, he rushed into the hall with the utmost precipita- 
tion, to open the door himself, and receive his recreant 
fugitive. 

At the instant, therefore, Paulina found herself in 
his arms, and not only very tenderly lifted from her car- 
riage, but actually carried up the steps into the drawing- 
room, where she was placed very gently, and with an air 
of deference, on a sofa. 

^^My darling must pardon,” said he, ^'the ecstasy of 
a disconsolate lover who has mourned the loss, for even 
a few hours, of the adored mistress of his heart. Hours, 
did I say, sweetest? Ages, endless cycles seem to have 
run their course.” 


CO 


DIVORCED. 


Poor Paulina! She was prepared to meet an icy ava- 
lanche of reproaches. She had fully expected, almost 
hoped for, a most^stormy scene when they should meet; 
for she had decided to have one final interview and 
leave-taking. 

But she intended to arrange this one last meeting in 
a formal way; to have Nora duly posted as a witness, 
and then, like some tragedy queen who is sustained by 
the force of heroic resolve, she would dictate her own 
terms, and bid this unworthy man an everlasting fare- 
well. 

Yet, here she was, in the twinkling of an eye, lifted 
off her obstinate little feet,, her very breath taken away 
by the sudden outburst of this sweet violence, which 
treated her just as if she might be any other woman, to 
be made lovfe to as best it pleased an ardent lover. 

And he did look handsome and chivalrous, too, as 
he stood before her, with a half-bold, half-respectful 
air, as if he awaited some responsive tenderness, half 
sure it would be given, yet half afraid it might be denied. 

As she caught Ins impassioned, admiring gaze, she 
felt a thrill of that magnetism that had at first en- 
thralled her will, and she feared that if she hesitated 
she would be enslaved. 

Now Paulina had singular force of will; and although 
she was, as we have seen, idealistic, and even what 
society would consider romantic, yet she was not at all 
sentimental. 

Her nature was averse to those mere inclinations of 


SEPARATION^. 


61 


fondness that find a charm in the senses. With her, 
love was an ardent affection for an ideal object, an aspi- 
ration of the soul, and she was not likely to be influenced 
deeply -by any amorous protestation where respect was 
destroyed. 

The sentiments that inspired her could never be meas- 
ured by a heartless voluptuary, whose creed was self- 
indulgence, and whose sole barrier was human respect. 

Thus, this momentary weakness was at once replaced 
by a strong reactionary tide of indignation, at the in- 
stant recollection that this submissive devotion and 
passionate demonstration were due to another, and, 
before high heaven, not hers to accept. 

The superior part of her nature asserted itself, and 
her reply was measured in words, and cold in manner: — 

‘‘You do not in anyway understand me, Neale Vo- 
land,^^ she said, “and perhaps it is just as well that we 
define our relations to each other with precision now, 
once for all. We first met some three months ago. I 
was driving a spirited horse, and you were on horse- 
back. You managed the beautiful animal well, and I 
admired you and the skill you displayed. By some in- 
explicable train of ideas, I was silly enough to connect 
your equestrianship with the far-fetched notion I had 
conceived of the typical heroes of knight-errantry. 
Doubtless, I expressed my admiration without meaning 
it, by my fixed regard, and you, with the ready precep- 
tion of a man of the world, were aware of it. You 
sought an early introduction, and almost at once openly 


62 


DIVORCED. 


declared yourself a suitor for my hand. I had just left 
school, did not know the world (oh, how old I have since 
grown), and had never been formally introduced into 
society. You knew me to be an orphan girl who had just 
attained her legal majority, and that my sole protector, 
my father^s faithful friend who had been my guardian, 
was abroad. You pressed your suit, responded to all 
my foolish fancies, allowed my imagination to run riot, 
when I pictured the delights of an idyllic existence 
which should smoothly run its course at this dear old 
homestead. At first, you permitted me to think you a 
bachelor and fancy free, as to all your past. Then, later 
on, when your valet happened to say something that 
made me suppose you to be a widower, you assumed a 
tone of gentle raillery in acknowledging the fact. You 
said that I had blotted out all the past so completely 
for you, that you had lived only in the present. This 
miserable compliment pleased my vanity, and although 
I would not in the beginning have been satisfied to 
have shared a life that had in its past memories been 
given to another, yet such was my infatuation, that I 
overcame this instinctive sentiment in your favor. 

am all unskilled in logic, or definitions; I am 
but a released school-girl without real knowledge of the 
world, while you are a man conversant with its ways. 
You know, Neale Voland, that, inferentially, I have 
been deceived. I arraign you before the tribunal of 
your own conscience, as one who has treacherously 
inveigled me into a ceremony of marriage. 


SEPARATION. 


63 


The gay libertine thus abjured was stung to the 
quick, and a crimson tide of anger flushed his usually 
pale face, but he felt that success was imperative, that 
he had gone too far to recede, and like the gambler 
who stakes his all upon the hazard of a die, he dared 
not lose his self-control. 

But, the mere passional attraction he had once felt 
for this statuesque woman began to be blended with 
very opposing feelings, for it is an anomaly often occur- 
ring, that merely sensuous love, when repulsed, readily 
turns to hate. It is a soil prolific of venemous and 
deadly growth, however hidden by its luxuriant warmth 
of coloring. 

He was maddened to perceive that he was read and 
critically adjudged by this unfledged girl, and he was 
in despair to encounter insuperable obstacles when he 
had supposed success was assured. But whatever the 
frenzy that convulsed him, he mastered his emotion 
and assumed his most winning manner. 

Paulina,^^ he replied, ^‘how can you be so pitiless, 
so unjust to one who must ever be your humble adorer? 
I implore you to consider that we are legally man and 
wife; that in the eye of the law we belong to each other; 
that the world and society will recognize our union, 
and that if you persist in indulging in these sentimental 
vagaries, you will place us both in a very false and embar- 
rassing position. Moreover, my dearest one, it is your duty 
to set aside any feeling of prejudice you may have, and 
acknowledge me as your husband.'’^ 


64 


DIVORCED. 


do acknowledge sir/^ she replied, ‘^that at pres- 
ent I am unhappily tied to you by a civil contract which 
possibly society with its artificial rules may recognize; 
but I never can.” 

Why should you, my charmer,” he replied, ‘‘thus 
discriminate against the laws of your country?” 

“I do not do so,” she responded; “I only propose to 
avail myself of their laxity, and do as you have done — 
procure a divorce.” 

Neale Voland now grew very pale, but gave no other 
sign of the interior conflict that raged. But could 
Paulina have had but a glimpse of the fierceness of his 
anger, she would have been dismayed. 

Again he pleaded, “And why should my lovely 
Paulina consider divorce as a crime? A witty French- 
man has said, that Adam would doubtless have claimed 
the privilege had one other woman existed. Does not 
my darling little moralist know, that it is impossible 
in this world to realize one’s ideal — that he who posses- 
ses her heart would form the sole exception. Mankind 
in general must live, breathe, and have their being ac- 
cording to prosaic laws and actual needs. We must all 
bend to circumstances and not make a law for ourselves. 

“When the laws endorse any course of action, all 
needed social requirements are met, nor should we build 
for ourselves a higher standard than is enforced by the 
constitution of the land ; why, my precious little one,” 
and his voice fell caressingly as might have done the 
soft sibilations of the arch-tempter on the ear of Eve, 


SEPARATION. 


65 


philosophies of the day, hold divorce to he one of 
the great safeguards through which the integrity of mar- 
riage is preserved. It is deemed a preventive measure, 
to ward off crime. It is against all natural inclinations 
to hold matrimony as indissoluble. How many noble 
and useful lives would thus he immolated through cruel 
rerpession, and do we not in this favored nation, hold 
liberty as something more than a name ? And shall not 
this most precious boon be permitted for the heart ? 

Certainly my beautiful angel you were created for 
love. It has been said that woman was not formed by 
God, but that she came direct from the heart of man, 
while you, my fair wisdom, make me rather fear that 
you are Minerva issuing from the brain of Jove. 

What indeed is my fault ? Do you reproach me 
for having loved you madly ? 

And, Paulina, you did vouchsafe me some return 
of my illimitable love, until this insane idea took pos- 
session of you. Rest tranquil and assured my darling, 
that I am in fact as in name, your best friend, your 
legal protector.” 

Paulina did not attempt to interrupt him and only 
spoke when he paused. 

Shall I,” she asked, live with you, solely because 
I love you ? Or shall you live with me solely because 
you love me? If so, marriage should he indissoluble be- 
cause love calls for unity, and it is a sentiment that de- 
mands an absolute and an individual possession of its 
object.” 

5 


66 


DIVORCED. 


‘^And marriage, Neale Voland, was established by 
heaven on this principle, that it should be the union of 
one with one, and these two making but one, represent 
unity. 

Now you would have but the union of one at a time ; 
one succeeding the other. This, to my apprehension, is 
worse than polygamy, for it is a tie liable to constant 
disruption. When the Lord permitted a plurality of 
wives to his favored nation, still he forbade divorce. But 
when the old law ceased to be, and the new law took its 
place, then marriage was elevated in dignity. It became 
indissoluble except by death. 

Can any woman pver consider her home secure if 
motives of self interest, if the passions, if fancy, if frivo- 
lous love of change can invade or desecrate its sanc- 
tity ? 

'^No, Neale Voland; a thousand, thousand times no. 
It may be necessary to set aside a civil contract, but 
there is no higher law to compel my obedience to you. 

There is a higher law regulating marriage, and 
under its law you owe fealty to that first wife, and not 
to me. May God help and comfort her, if you have 
left her alone and desolate ! You have doubtless 
broken her heart, but it shall be no fault of mine that 
she is widowed. 

But should I listen to the allurements of the pas- 
sions and take my place as your wife, what surety have 
I, in turn, of a continuance of happiness? Am I, too, 
to have but an ephemeral existence ? 


SEPARATIO]N’. 


67 


Suppose that in the course of years I am unfortu- 
nate; that I become blind, or deaf, or infirm and unat- 
tractive through sickness; that in addition I sulfer loss 
of fortune, and am dependent on you for support, 
you can at any moment appeal to the terrible law for 
relief; you can plead some figment out of the many 
that can be readily proved. What happens next ? I am 
doomed to retire in my turn as did number one, and 
make way for some successful rival. 

‘^And, Neale Voland, I would deserve such a fate, 
did I accept your law of divorce, and avail myself of it 
to the detriment of any living woman. You cannot offer 
me marriage in the sense of a divinely appointed insti- 
tution, and therefore you have no equivalent to give 
me in exchange for the loyalty of my life which would 
he yours. My heart, my soul craves more than you can 
satisfy — farewell. 

So saying, with a sudden movement, and a gesture 
of repulsion, she quickly left the room. 

An hour later the accomplished bridegroom and his 
clever valet departed from Hazlehurst. 


CHAPTER Y. 

SLY AND PRY. 


HAT evening Paulina sat very lonely, very much 



J- perplexed, and yet very well satisfied with her own 
course of action. 

She tried in vain to solve that constantly recurring 
problem that will perplex us-, of ‘Mvhat next when 
she was startled by a loud cry from Nora, who was in 
the adjoining room. 

Paulina was too young to appreciate how severely 
the strain of the past few days had told upon her, 
nerves, but her heart had been wrought to such a taut 
tension, that the least shock upset her. 

She burst into tears at hearing the outcry, wringing 
her hands, and quite sure that some new calamity had 
suddenly overtaken her. 

Then, almost at the same instant she was seized with 
an hysteria of laughter, at the droll appearance Nora 
presented as she marched into the room, holding tri- 
umphantly over her head a wide-spread new silk um- 
brella, on the outside of Avhich was a carefully written 
label — ‘‘ Returned through the confessional — ask no 
questions. Incog. 

The poor woman was in a frightful state of excite- 


68 


SLY AND PRY. 


69 


ment, her eyes fairly popping out of her head, her face 
like a 'flaming peony, and her cotton cap twisted awry 
by the umbrella points that had caught in its ruffle 
when hastily opened. 

Faix an^ a maracle it is,^^ she cried out, an more 
by the Latinity on the tail ind on^’t; ^ in — cog; ’ a nine 
days^ wonder! Eeturned widout axing no questions eider; 
an' all by its lone self an' as good as noo, afther a skit of 
twinty years; an' ef Margaret Maguire onlyknow'd of it, 
she that was the mither of the darther that mahried the 
car-conductor, now a widdy-man, an' mither an' darther 
now both in the clay — thim that's did it, wid tiie incog, 
did the dacent thing, an' handy too, an' meself is more 
happy now nor a millioneer, more by token, the rumbril 
was sint from the holy place, an' silk too, ivery shrid 
on't. 

^•Bliss'd be thim, nor is affected wid a conshunse. 
An' where, me pet, was I, meself, whin it came back 
into me possesshun. Was it walkin' I was? No, in- 
dade. Was it stannin' I was? No, indade. Was it 
settin' I was? No, indade. Was I out? Was I in? 
Was I lookin' around afther it? It's skeersome as how 
it happint. I was takin' wan iyster wid wan cup of tay, 
wid the sthroke of wan limmin in 't, whin I was tii inkin' 
that, afther all, me pet, it was gude riddance of bad 
rubbish that Walley that skitted, an' all on a suddint, me 
eye lifted an' the idintikil rumbril all convanient, plase 
ye, was a stannin’ agin the chimbley, wid this tag on't." 

An umbrella had, indeed, been returned, purporting 


70 


DIVOIICED. 


to be the very one lost or stolen a score of 3 ^ears ago, all 
unused, but no one could solve tiie mystery. 

^"It is strange, Nora/’ said Paulina, wiping her 
eyes, for she had laughed tears into them, that any 
umbrella is ever returned, and this is truly most re- 
markable.” 

It’s the turn of the day, me pet, that means good 
luck,” said she. 

^MYell, I hope so,” answered Paulina, sighing. 
^^Come now, Nora, shut up the umbrella, it will keep 
for a rainy day, and tell me if you know of any good 
lawyer in town, for 1 have never noticed who they are.” 

Thereupon Nora closed the precious umbrella very 
carefully, fastened the clasp around it, smoothed out the 
wrinkles and remarked : 

I, meself will dhrown first, fut-sore, too, nor this 
rumbril shall iver be used. As to thim ly’ers, I know’d 
of a furrum forninst the court-house an’ anninst the 
Gran’ Hotel. I know’d Jerry Fagan, he that kipt a 
dairy, an’ he had a twinty-dollar kuh stole, an’ he wint 
to thim ly’ers for saddisfacshun. 

^ Can ye give me compensashun fur me twinty- 
dollar kuh, she that is stole,’ sed Jerry. 

^ We km,’ ses they. ^Kum agin’ this day sennit.’ 

When Jerry wint agin’, he ask’t thim : — 

^ Have ye me kuh? ’ 

^The rogue’s in jug, fast enough,’ ses they, ^ that 
stole ye kuh. The kuh’s in poun fur ye — we clapp’t 
thim both in.’ 


SLY AND PkY. 


71 


^ The divil ye did/ ses Jerry. ^ How much ter 
git her out? ^ 

^ Twinty-five dollars ter pay/ ses they, ^ for fee an^ 
poun.^ 

^ Take five dollars, thin,^ ses Jerry, ^ an^ kape yer 

kuh.^ 

An^ he wint away sore at heart, but thim ly^ers 
got the rogue, the kuh, an^ five siller dollers to boot.^^ 
^^That is a queer recommendation, Nora,^’ said 
Paulina, smiling, ^‘but to-morrow morning we will 
drive to town, and you may take me to their office. 
They seem to be shrewd men at a bargain, perhaps they 
can help me.^’ 

The next day Paulina and Nora set out in search of 
this firm of clever lawyers, and their place of business was 
readily found. It was in quite a large, three-story brick 
building, entirely devoted to lawyers^ offices, and rooms 
of real estate agents. Just within the door were 
various little sign-boards, pointing with an index finger 
upwards, and directing those who came on business 
where to go. 

Oh the second floor were three rooms, each opening 
into the main corridor, and over each was printed, in 
large letters, C. Sly & 0. Pry, Attorneys at Law.""^ 
Evidently, these gentlemen had a flourishing prac- 
tice, for when Nora tapped at the first door at the head 
of the stairs, no one seemingly paid any attention, and 
when, after a repetition of the summons, she opened 
the door and looked in, she found herself equally un- 


72 


DIVORCED. 


heeded. This ante-room contained a number of persons 
who appeared to be waiting their turn, and as Nora 
beckoned to Paulina to come in, and she entered the 
room, she would have drawn back and retired, had not 
a gentleman who seemed to be in authority there, partly 
opened a side door, and catching a glimpse of her elegant 
figure, hastened by a dexterous flank movement to arrest 
her steps. He shot out of the side door, through an 
obscure passage into the main hall, and from thence 
made signs to Paulina, who still stood at the door of 
the ante-room, to follow him. 

It was none other than Mr. Sly himself, the senior 
partner of the firm, who had noticed a handsome car- 
riage drive up to the building a few minutes before, and 
who now conjectured that this beautiful young lady had, 
doubtless, business of unusual importance to transact. 
He at once decided that such a visitor required his own 
immediate and particular attention, and opening the 
second door that led into the main hall, ushered them 
into a large and luxuriously-appointed room, which he 
remarked was his ^^*den.” 

He was scarcely, however, disposed to admit Nora, 
for looking at her doubtingly, as she closely followed 
her mistress, he inquired with a polite bow — 

And this person also ? ” 

Yes,” said Paulina, ‘^^she is my faithful maid. I 
have no secrets from her.” 

But,” expostulated he, making a gentle movement 
as if about to close the door, a third party breaks in 


SLY AND PRY. 


73 


upon the confidence clue to a legal adviser. Shall not 
your attendant wait in the ante-room.^’ 

^^No, misther,” answered Nora, with decision, at 
the same time pushing herself through the partly closed 
door, without any ceremony. Me an^ she, can niver be 
taken apart.” 

And if it is not indiscreet, may I inquire who it is 
that does me the honor ? ” asked Mr. Sly, in an apolo- 
getic tone. 

Now this was the first occasion in which Paulina 
had found it necessary to use a cognomen, since her 
marriage two days ago, and she could not avoid blushing 
with embarrassment. She experienced an aversion to 
giving the name of Voland, which she was so anxious 
to be relieved of, and yet she could scarcely introduce 
herself by her maiden name of Peyton. 

Mr. Sly, with the quick perception of his profess- 
n, at once deprecated having asked the question. 

‘^Pardon me,” he said; these little sentiments of 
delicacy are much to be respected. Pray be seated. 
Miss — or perhaps I should say madam.” 

Hereupon Nora came to Paulina^s relief, and inter- 
locuted : 

She’s nayther the wan nor the ither. She’s bether 
nor both. She’s siparated.” 

Madam,” immediately responded Mr. Sly, ^^a word 
to the wise is sufficient. I perceive that you seek redress 
for some marital infelicity. You have, I trust I may 
say, found exactly the right person to whom to come 


74 


DIVORCED. 


for relief, as our firm may be deemed, peculiarly, divorce 
lawyers. Our business has always been prosperous, and 
steadily increasing, but within the past year it is as- 
suming such magnitude, that we are no longer able to 
give our attention to all the cases presented. We have 
now on hand the longest list of divorce libels we have 
ever been called upon to present. We find it imperative 
under such constantly increasing pressure, to discrimi- 
nate more carefully than we have hitherto done, and 
only give our time to parties whose high social standing 
enables them to meet the requisite charges as well as our 
fees, which, of course, are considerable. But we shall be 
pleased, madam, to consider your case as one of especial 
interest, to which I, myself, the senior partner, shall 
give my most earnest attention."” 

Having delivered himself of this quasi oration, he 
tlirew himself in an easy attitude in his revolving office 
chair, stroked together the few straggling hairs of a 
sandy colored moustache he was cultivating, and turned 
a little to one side with owl-like gravity, as if prepared 
to hear, and give ponderous advice. 

At this moment a youngish man of smart appear- 
ance, bright, snappish eyes, black, closely trimmed 
heavy beard and hair, and altogether a priggish, lively, 
dapper man, entered the room. 

‘^My junior partner, Mr, Pry, madam,” explained 
the senior, for it could scarcely be deemed an introduc- 
tion. 

But the junior also appeared somewhat disposed to 


SLY PKY. 


75 

interest himself in tlieir fair client, and was about to 
take a seat, when his senior said with considerable asper- 
ity of manner : 

It is not requisite to remain, Mr. Pry. You will 
be sent for in case your services are needed. 

Whereupon Mr. Pry jumped up in a jerky way as if 
he might have sat down upon pins inadvertently, made 
a spasmodic like bow, and quickly disappeared. 

‘^And now, my dear madam, resumed the imper- 
turbable Mr. Sly, assuming a provokingly confidential 
air, ^^will you be pleased to make known to me the cir- 
cumstances that cause one so fair and youthful to be- 
come an applicant for a divorce, for such, I doubt not, 
is your mission here.'’^ 

My situation,^’ said Paulina, with much emotion, 
which she could not repress at the thought of the deso- 
lation that had brought her even into business relations 
with such a disagreeable man, ^Ms a very extraordinary 
one, and will, I fear, tax your legal acumen to the ut- 
most. 

^^^Do not fear as to the result, when we assume your 
case, madam,"" interrupted Mr. Sly. We have never 
yet failed in procuring divorces when applied for by 
parties of wealth and high position. Make yourself 
then, quite easy on that score. 

^^In the first place, there exists no general law regu- 
lating marriage throughout the United States, and the 
statutes and decisions as to what constitutes a valid con- 
tract even, are so varied in the different states as to give 


76 


DIVORCED. 


the greatest latitude of construction. These inharmo- 
nious definitions make, I may say, this country a par- 
adise for clever divorce lawyers, and then we are often 
assisted by the extraordinarily stupid renderings of 
judgment that one may bring about and he gleefully 
rubbed his hands as if he figuratively gathered in the 
full harvest that a natioiTs criminal carelessness in this 
field has left for busy gleaners. 

Paulina was inexpressibly shocked, as she thus pain- 
fully gathered in the workPs wisdom, and she was dis- 
gusted with men who derived satisfaction and profit out 
of the discord of families. Theirs was but a system of 
chicanciT, and here she found herself like a silly moth, 
witli wings singed and fluttering in a flame, that was 
ever fanned by such efforts. 

Yet she knew tliat she could not extricate herself, and 
so like some distracted insect, she must continue to 
hover lielplessly within the dangerous circle. 

Mr. Sly, construed her silence as approval, and de- 
siring to make the best possible impression on so lovely 
a lady, he continued : 

“1 beg you, my dear madam, to yield me your un- 
reserved confidence, and inform me fully of the nature 
of your difficulties. You can form but a slight idea of 
the facility that exists, for dissolving any contract of 
marriage whatever. Once establish that marriage is 
nothing more than a civil contract regulated by law, 
and you must at once perceive that this relation, arising 
out of such agreement, being provided for by law, can 


SLY AND PRY. 


77 


also be abrogated by law. A stream cannot rise to a 
higher level than its fountain head, and we made an 
immense stride towards dissolving the stability of the 
nuptial tie, when we swept away the musty restraints of 
tlie ecclesiastical law, with their senseless appeal to 
what they are pleased to designate as higher law. 8o 
many meanings are involved, when one has only to deal 
with forms of civil law. Obligations change with change 
of residence. Each State has its own marriage laAv, 
and it is quite practicable to move from one State to 
another, with the view of aft'ecting the validity of a con- 
tract which has different interpretations. There are, 
to be sure, laws, presumably regulating the law of the 
domicile, but these rules are subject to so many excep- 
tions, as to be readily set aside. In fact, dear madam, 
were I hot restrained by professional honor, I could 
mention to you various instances where people of fash- 
ion have so profited, and no loss of social prestige has 
ensued. 

But I cannot indicate, as to what application of lav/ 
can be made in your case, until you will graciously make 
nie conversant with all the facts involved.^^ 

He then paused, cast upon Paulina a subdued and 
winning glance to invite her confession, and awaited 
her statement. 

My story, sir,” said she, may be told in a few 
words. I have been so silly as to allow myself to be 
wooed and wedded during the past three months by a 
gentleman who pressed his suit with ardor, and who 


78 


DIVORCED. 


pleased mj fancy, because I attributed to him qualities 
which he has not. Two days ago we were jirivately 
wedded. I was at the time under the impression that 
he was a widower, but almost immediately after the cer- 
emony, lie informed me that he was a divorced man. 
He allowed me to marry him, when he must have sup- 
posed me to be in ignorance of this fact, and I am too 
indignant at the tacit deception he has practiced, to be 
willing to live with him as his wife. He has been di- 
vorced, I know not for what cause, and I seek the same 
remedy. When he made known to me that she who 
was his wife was living, I instantly left him, nor have 
we met but once since then, when my faithful maid was 
present, who is now here with me. I can never consent 
to become his wife, and I have so told him, bidding 
him farewell, and declaring my intention to seek a 
divorce. 

As the recollection of this fatal union against which 
her soul revolted impressed her, she burst into tears. 

Mr. Sly seemed deeply atfected, and took out of his 
pocket a perfumed handkerchief, with which he duly 
wiped his sympathetic, moist eyes. 

And the name of this base creature, who has thus 
dared to inveigle into the matrimonial tie so much 
youthful innocence and beauty?” inquired he in almost 
a whisper. 

Paulina, was too much absorbed with her own dis- 
tressing thoughts to pay much attention to the manner 
of this man^ although she was quite conscious of an 


SLY AKD PRY. 


79 


instinctive dislike of his fawning sentimentality. This 
sentiment of repulsion, caused her instantly to repress 
the unbidden tears, and she coldly replied: 

The gentleman, whom I was so unfortunate as to 
marry, is Mr. Neale Voland.” 

An involuntary exclamation of surprise escaped Mr. 
Sly, which Paulina observed. 

You are then acouainted with Mr. Neale Voland ? 
she inquired. 

But Mr. Sly had quickly recovered himself, and 
merely answered^ ^‘Slightly, mad am. 

‘^Can you aid me?^^ she asked. 

Without a doubt, he responded. 

May I ask,^^ said Paulina with a choking sensation, 
that made it difficult for her to speak, if my plain 
statement will suffice; if my release from this abhorred 
bond will involve no prevarication, no quibbling of any 
kind?^’ 

Mr. Sly regarded her for a moment with an air of 
cold displeasure, but the charm of her beauty, conquered 
the angry impulse. 

You have only, madam,^^ said he, in a rigid way, 
to make oath that you were forced into this marriage, 
to prove that your consent, which is of the very essence 
of the contract, was not given freely, and the contract is 
void. Surely you can assert that much.^^ 

I cannot make such an oath,^^ said Paulina firmly. 
Then, there was at least error and fraud ? sug- 
gested he very blandly. 


80 


DIVORCED. 


Only that error, sir, that arises from misconstruc- 
tion, and that fraud which must be deemed tacit, and 
not direct, she courageously replied. 

What have we to do with ethical subtleties, or 
school-girl logical definitions,^^ he impatiently re- 
sponded. You were either deceived, or you were not 
deceived.” 

Inferentially I was deceived,” she said. 

‘^It is not enough,” said he contemptuously; infer- 
entially is a long word and a useless one in law. No 
mistake you may have made affecting character, or any 
fanciful attributed traits, involving disappointment, can 
effect the validity of your marriage. Do not, my dear 
lady, deceive yourself in this matter. You may with- 
hold your respect or affection, but that is a mere matter 
of sentiment. The law cannot take cognizance of your 
action unless your husband seeks redress in consequence, 
and demands a divorce. This I fancy he will not be 
very likely to do. But we can look elsewhere in the 
various ramifications of our fiexible divorce laws, for 
relief. We can construe deceit in order to induce con- 
sent, we can plead your youth and utter inexperience 
effectually, and we can prove your instant repudiation 
of the union in order to establish a nullity.” 

But Paulina did not look satisfied, which her legal 
adviser observing, remarked with a well simulated air of 
commiseration : 

^^Your absolute ignorance of the world, dear madam, 
has permitted you to make this serious mistake, and I 




SLY AND PRY. 


81 


trust that you will therefore be guided in your attempts 
to extricate yourself from these grave embarrassments 
by those who best know how to aid you. And rest as- 
sured that your interests in this delicate matter will 
be as faithfully guarded as if they were my own.'’^ 

These words spoken with an air of perfect candor, 
seemed so very reasonable, that they made an impres- 
sion on Paulina, who said: 

“ I am, indeed sir, quite unequal to meet the com- 
plications that have arisen out of my own unwise con- 
duct, and I must needs rely on your knowledge and 
judgment. 

The learned counsel looked gratified and said in a 
very encouraging way : 

Do not, I beg you, distress yourself. Leave the 
conduct of this case to me. I have brought to a suc- 
cessful issue many cases involving greater perplexities, 
altho’ never one, fair lady, where so much delicacy 
and refinement of sentiment made a client so very inter- 
esting. It will not, I am sure, be difficult to prove abso- 
lute incompatibility.” 

Paulina looked surprised. It had never, even re- 
motely, occurred to her, that anything constructively so 
indirect as an incompatibility, could be tortured into a 
sufficient legal cause for divorce. She began to realize, 
more and more, that any union formed under conditions 
so liable to be disturbed or swept away was but a rope 
of sand, ever shifting with the ceaseless ebb and fiow 
of the tide of human passions, Something like a prayer 
6 


82 


DIVORCED. 


ascended from her heart, not yet hardened by the selfish 
sophistries of the day, that this most sacred of all human 
ties should be better guarded. 

All this while Nora had remained in a corner of the 
room, listening with breathless attention, observing 
everything, and if not fairly understanding the voluble 
flow of words, comprehending very well that the upshot 
of it all was how to free her mistress. 

She suddenly recalled a remark, incidentally made by 
Hermann, the valet, that it was disagreeable to sleep 
near his master, after he had indulged in one of his 
famous terrapin suppers, because he snored so — and she 
felt sure that this smart lawyer could twist something 
out of so disagreeable a habit that would help their 
cause — so she burst forth into one of her peculiar 
tirades : ‘^‘^Plaze ye, misther, an^ I mane no disre- 
speck, nayther ter ye, nor leastwise ter ye Honorable 
Courts ef the cap fits, but, wull it not stan’ afore the 
law, in a case of ceevil contrack, an^ no dacent mah- 
riage in howly church ter obligate, ef a mon onceevilly 
snores? His walley, wot knows his ways, can prove it 
agin' him." 

'Capital ! " said Mr. Sly, laughing. He snores, 
the wretch, does he ? I was once able to procure a 
divorce, on account of this very intolerable grievance. 
No more serious incompatibility can possibly exist. 
Thanks, my good woman, for this valuable suggestion." 

am, sir," said Paulina, blushing, and at the same 
time rising to leave, anxious to change my residence, 


4 


SLY AND PRY. 83 

and go away from Hazlehurst during the progress of 
the divorce suit, which you are about to institute for 
me. I would find it painful, at such a time, to receive 
visits from my friends. My late guardian, Mr. Noble, 
is abroad, and I have no one to advise me in his 
absence. I desire to find a very retired place, where 
I can go with my maid and remain quite isolated until 
this disagreeable matter is brought to a close. 

A curious gleam shot into the half averted eyes of 
Mr. Sly; there was a slight elevation of the shaggy, 
sandy eyebrows, as she spoke, and he quickly answered: 

^^Most discreet and fair of women, I can recommend 
you to just such a retreat. It is a lonely and an inac- 
cessible spot in the Green Mountains, known as Timber 
Eidge. It will give me pleasure to write a note to the 
good woman who lias charge of the old place, and I 
will send you minute written directions, to enable you 
to find the exact locality. 

"‘Oh thanks,"" said Paulina, and with a grateful 
impulse she actually gave him her hand, as she bade 
him good-bye. 

As the door closed, and he sank back into the depths 
of his luxurious easy-chair in an ecstasy of self-gratula- 
tion, he muttered to himself — 

“ Mephistopheles in fact, out-done. Well, I am not 
a divorced man, thank heaven, not yet. I am only a 
bachelor. I am rich, blessed be the follies of society, 
nor am I exactly ill-looking; well, let that pass, for I am 
better yet, clever as the devil, and who cares for more 


84 


DIVORCED. 


than that in a man. Above all, I am in love v/ith her. 
Ye gods! but she is irresistible, with that proud, cold, 
distant air. 

“And you thought she was yours, Neale Voland ! You 
sly, old dog, more wicked than witty! Out-witted! Ha, 
ha! I have your cool five thousand, the price of break- 
ing poor Miriam/’s heart, who really loves you. She is 
a fine woman too. But I don't blame you, with such a 
tempting prize in view. Married, but not mated, and now 
you are fated, for I have sent your bride where she will 
find your Miriam. Hidden away so safely out of sight, 
eh? Won't this queenly beauty hate you, when she 
knows all, yes all. How I would fairly gloat on the 
sight of their meeting. But it's glory enough, to have 
brought them together. Satan was but a dullard 
in the garden of Eden. He never finished his perfect 
work, until he invented Divorce.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


MIRIAM. 



lAULINA had received such accurate written direc- 


J- tions from her able counsel, Mr. Sly, as to enable 
herself and Nora to make the journey with ease as far as 
Sleepy Valley, which was ten miles distant from Timber 
Ridge. On reaching this place, however, no other convey- 
ance than an open country wagon could be secured at any 
price, to take the remainder of this rough mountain 
drive, for after leaving Sleepy Valley below, the ascent 
of the mountain became very precipitous. The steep 
road, rudely cut out of the hillside, was barely wide 
enough to allow the passage of one vehicle at a time, 
yet it was so seldom traveled over, that there was but 
slight danger of any rencounter. But once having 
gained the top of this saddle of the mountain, there 
was ample compensation for this disQomfort, in the 
unimpeded view afforded; and Paulina, who loved 
nature, and reveled in its luxuriance when at her own 
superb country seat, was much impressed with the ap- 
pearance it presented in this desolate solitude. 

The gorge had shut them in so closely during the 
ascent, that she was quite unprepared for the splendid 
panoramic view that burst upon them from the moment 
they gained the summit. 


85 


86 


DIVORCED. 


By her repeated expressions of admiration, she all 
unwittingly got the good-will of the honest farmer, who 
had reluctantly consented, although amply paid for his 
trouble, to turn out of his way to take her to the old 
manse on the top of Timber Eidge — for half a cent- 
ury ago the place had been one of some pretensions, 
and was inhabited, so the story goes, by an old miser 
who would have no one near him. 

I do admire, Miss,^^ said the driver, giving his 
horses an extra cut, to see your spunk ; but why on 
airth do you ambition to spend a winter at Timber 
Eidge ? I calculate, youdl find it too bitter cold to 
stay. Folks do say that ever since old Skinflint lived 
there, counting over his gold, that on stormy nights his 
chink rattles underground, and can be huFn. He was 
a queer customer, and some say he left no kin-folks. 
The old woman who stays there now come to the place un- 
beknownst to everybody. Soon after she lit down there, 
the sick lady and her boy came. The old woman^s a 
curious fish, they do say, and I guess youfil not find 
things in apple-pie order. Be you any kin to the sick 
lady ? ” 

‘^1 did not know there was such a person there,” 
answered Paulina. 

^^Now, deu tell !”said he, with unfeigned astonish- 
ment. 

Why, I allotted you be cousins. We be e^ena^most 
there, and Pm glad of it, although Pm proud to know 
you. Miss.” 


MIRIAM. 


87 


After a few minutes^ drive, during which Paulina 
was lost in admiration at the outspreading landscape, 
for they had now gained the very top of the ridge, the 
man exclaimed : 

Well, here we be ! Bein^ there'^s no dogs to sheer 
you, you can just lite here at the gate, for I still have 
to go pretty considerable ways to get to hum before 
dark.^^ 

So saying, he lifted their trunks inside the gate, 
helped them to descend, and made off. So uncere- 
monious was his departure that Paulina stood for a 
moment, bewildered to find herself thus suddenly at her 
journey's end. But she was speedily aroused by Nora's 
plaintive remark, Alanna, me pet, it's a dead house, 
an' not the sign of a live craythur hereabout." 

It was an old house, a very old house, with a project- 
ing upper story and a clumsy outside stone chimney 
placed against the gable end that fronted the road. 
The moss-covered shingle roof was pierced with one 
large dormer window, much resembling a sentry box 
keeping watch over the place, and the grass-grown un- 
used country road they had just traveled, wound its sin- 
uous course a hundred yards distant. The rough wall 
made of stones loosely piled on each other, had fallen 
in places nearly to the ground, and a crazy looking gate 
hung open, swinging on partly broken hinges. Not far 
from the house was an open well, walled with an inse- 
cure rim which threatened to cave in, and out of 
whose clear depths rose a high swing-beam, holding its 


88 


DIVORCED. 


empty bucket aloft, like some gallows’ rogue dangling in 
mid-air. 

The entire gable end, chimney and all, was covered 
with a huge wisteria vine, which in summer must have 
embowered it with a sheen of empurpled glory, but now, 
stripped of every leaf, its rich clusters of dreamy flowers 
faded away like the brief splendor of a glowing sunset, 
it clung dismantled with its twisted stem round and 
round the chimney top, seizing every inequality of sur- 
face presented for support, even as man does in the des- 
olate winter of life, when one can no longer stand alone. 

^ A flne Norway spruce, which must at one time have 
been planted for ornament, stood near the door, a 
graceful sentinel to a spot of most forbidding aspect, 
and its beauty was enhanced by the feathery snow flakes 
that rested on its coniferous surface, delicately vesting 
with contrasting whiteness the curving lines of its som- 
bre hued branches. Winter sets in apace in this lati- 
tude, where the mountain altitude alone anticipates its 
coming. But the crisp and clear air is bracing to the 
nerves and, if one responds with healthful effort, most 
invigorating. 

The quaint character of the spot, with its wide and 
splendid outlook, blended with Paulina’s dreamy mood, 
and did not oppress, but rather strengthened her. As 
she still gazed upon the beautiful scenery, she heard 
tho fresh voice of a child within the vestibule, evidently 
calling back to some one within the house, Mamma, 
dear mamma, I do believe he has come.” 


MIRIAM. 


89 


Almost at the instant, a beautiful boy of seven or 
eight years of age, with soft blue eyes and streaming 
flaxen ringlets, bounded down the rickety steps, and 
stood at her side. 

But what a dazed look of childish sorrow; what an 
appealing glance met hers ! 

Paulina at once understood that some one had been 
desired, and that one long looked for had not come. 

am sorry, my pretty dear,^^ she gently said, 
‘^^that I am not the expected friend. 

^^Oh, I am so sorry, he replied, with the frank in- 
nocence of childhood. was sure it wasmypapa."” 

His eyes were full of tears, but children never cease 
to hope, and as he quickly brushed away the fast falling 
drops, he said in a brave way, mamma must not see 
me cry. It would make her sick. You know she has 
no one to take care of her but me, until papa comes 
back; and he stays oh, so long ! /don^t care,^^ he ad- 
ded, tossing back his curls with a proud look — Ife^s 
nothing to me, but only my mamma — if he just would 
make her stop crying, I could take care of myself, for 
am T not a little man ? But come in and see my beau- 
tiful mamma, and if you can tell her all about my papa, 
who has never come back, she will be glad to see you, 
and so shall I” 

So saying he took Paulina^s hand and led her into, 
the house. 

What was it in a certain air and manner of this 
charming child that startled Paulina and reminded her 


90 


DIVORCED. 


SO painfully of some familiar presence ? Whatever it 
was she felt the chord of memory deeply stirred, but 
could not trace the indefinable connection. 

There was a long, low, dimly-lighted hall, with a 
blackened oaken ceiling, with heavy transverse beams 
that frowned down upon all intruders. A stairway of 
ample width had a carved balustrade, evincing some 
good taste when the house had been built a hundred 
years ago. 

Into this hall there opened a large room, whose deep 
English fireplace, set far back in the wall, afforded space 
for a stiff, high-backed wooden settle on either side, and 
gave to what was otherwise a plain room, an air of 
quaint picturesqueness. 

At the very door, Paulina paused to let the child 
precede her and make her presence known; but at the 
moment he entered he screamed, have killed her 
and throwing himself on the floor at his mother’s feet, 
sobbed as if his heart would break. 

Hearing this distressed cry, both Paulina and Nora 
hurriedly went in, and found the poor lady extended on 
a low couch — she had fainted. 

Nora ran to the well for water, and Paulina had for- 
tunately some restoratives at hand, in her traveling 
satchel. 

She stooped for an instant to kiss the dear child, 
and whisper in his ear : 

Be a good little man. If you cry so, it will make 
mamma worse. She will be better in a If ew minutes.” 


MIRIAM. 


91 


The lesson of self-restraint was familiar to this child. 
He had almost from infancy learned to overcome him- 
self for her dear sake. He had always seen her un- 
happy, and to relieve her had been his ardent wish day 
by day, month by month, and reaching up through the 
short space of his life, until it grew into a sense of re- 
sponsibility, such as seldom oppresses childhood. A 
concern for the welfare of those entrusted to our care 
forms, perhaps, the heaviest burden imposed, as we toil 
onwards in the pilgrimage of life ; but it is one of the 
usual privileges of infancy and early youth to have no 
anxiety for others, but to be oneself the tender object of 
solicitude. 

Unfortunate, indeed, is the child upon whom falls 
this blight. 

Adverse circumstances had thrown this baby life into 
shadow, and it was only the sudden shock that had so 
overcome a strength of purpose far beyond the child^s 
years. For when he saw his mother unconscious, the hor- 
rible thought seized him that his hasty speech about his 
fathers coming had killed her; and he fell upon his 
face as if to shut out the awful sight forever. But at 
these cheering words of Paulina he became quiet, and 
raising his head slightly, ventured to take a little peep 
through his open fingers to watch his darling. 

The efforts of Paulina and Nora soon revived the 
poor lady, who, heaving a deep sigh, faintly whispered, 
her eyes still closed; Neale, my precious child."’ 

Low and tremulous as was the voice, the quick ear 


93 


DIVORCED. 


of the loving boy caught the summons, and he instantly 
sprang to his feet, threw his arms around her neck, and 
covered her pale face with tender kisses. 

Mamma, sweet mamma, pleaded he, live for me, 
I love you so.” 

As Miriam, for she it was, revived sufficiently to 
breathe forth, with blanched lips, the name of Neale,” 
Paulina was bending over her, gently chafing the blue- 
veined temples with cologne. 

The resemblance of the child to some indefinable 
link of the past was at once made clear. 

The revelation, to her acute perceptions, was as 
entire as if the whole story had been told her, witli 
the utmost minuteness with which words could elab- 
orate it. 

But no power of -words could ever describe the flood 
of emotion that overwhelmed her as witness to so sad 
a scene. 

Her vivid imagination divined the lingering suffer- 
ing, the crushed hopes of unrequited love, of disap- 
pointed expectations. 

Yet, she could not divine, for she could not sound, 
the depths of a villainy that had brought it all to pass. 

And yet, that which she now saw was but one of the 
many, the oft-repeated acts, in the sickening drama of 
divorce. 

One of the phases that has been enacted and re- 
enacted, under our very eyes, forming the floating cur- 
rent gossip of all society, from the lowest ranks to the 


MIRIAM. 


93 


highest social circles, without the fact being duly 
weighed, that treachery in the marriage tie, means 
wasted life, heart-break, a victim immolated, a family 
uprooted — a cyclone that has so fully done its hellish 
work as to utterly sweep away the sacred family altar, 
and destroy, root and branch, the fairest tree*of Par- 
adise. 

Alas, for the tender branches, the buds of jiromise 
that are thus consumed and blighted ' 

As Paulina looked upon the emaciated figure, the 
pallid face, the sunken eyes, the hectic glow, sure har- 
bingers of a swift-corning doom, she realized that this 
life had been literally consumed in the fierceness of a 
struggle beyond the strength of this woman to bear ; 
and she indignantly coiitrasted the buoyant, self-satisfied 
air, the handsome figure, fine complexion and debonair 
manner of her oppressor. For the one, her soul was 
filled with pity, from the other, she turned away with 
intense loathing. So torn was her heart by this rude 
conflict of feeling, so dazed was she by this inexpressible 
sorrow brought with such force before her, that she, too, 
grew faint, as she almost unconsciously bent over the 
drooping sufferer. Objects indistinctly swam before 
her gaze ; she seemed to have assumed suddenly some 
impossible shape, to be receding tom this dismal scene, 
her body felt light and as if she walked the clouds, and 
the low, sad tones of the mother, mingled with the 
sweet pleadings of the child, reached her as if she were 
a looker-on from some height in another world. 


94 


DIVOKCED. 


Great God ! thought she ; am I too a victim to be 
offered up on this insatiate funereal pyre, where heca- 
tombs of wives are needed to mark the progress of one 
man^s perfidy covered over by law? 

At this moment she was gently but firmly grasped 
by Nora, who led her to one of the wooden settles with- 
in the fireplace, and bathing her temples, gave her of 
the limpid well-water to drink. 

Me pet,’' she whispered in awed tones, ^‘be brave; 
shure an’ yer trial’s sore — it’s she\ it is, poor thing.” 

And Paulina and Nora sat there unnoticed, for now 
the child was all taken up with the joy of the return of 
his mother’s flitting life; and she, with half closed eyes, 
was too feeble to be conscious of other presence than his. 

Neale, my darling,” , she faintly said, ^‘^he will 
never come back, and only the grave can tell us why.” 

Mamma,” said the child, kissing her fondly, ‘^‘if I 
dared leave you, I would go away and find my papa 
and make him come to you.” 

^^No, no, baby,” she answered with a slight tremor, 
never leave me, precious one; it will soon be over for 
me ; but oh, what is to become of you ? ” 

Mamma, mamma,” sobbed the child, and they 
wept together. The very air of the long, low room was 
oppressed with this monotone of woe. 

The first shock of this painful discovery over, Pau- 
lina was once more herself. She rose, and quickly ap- 
proaching them, addressed the child with winning 
grace and tenderness. 


MIRIAM . 


95 


""Neale, you have forgotten your promise, dear, to 
introduce me to your lovely mamma.” 

Miriam was so weak she dreaded everything, and this 
gentle presence made her shudder, she knew not why. 
Perchance the inner shrine of her spiritual perceptions 
took the alarm. 

Be that as it may, Miriam trembled, yet she only 
beheld the sympathizing face of a beautiful young girl 
seeking her confidence. 

The child arose, and with much infantile grace, took 
Paulina^s hand, saying 

""Mamma, our dear, new friend.” 

Miriam looked inquiringly. 

Paulina said: ""Dear madam, my sorrows have led 
me here. I am unhappily mated, and I have been 
directed here by my lawyer, to be at rest from persecu- 
tion during the progress of a suit instituted for my 
divorce.” 

Miriam's brilliant eyes had at first indicated distrust, 
but at this simple recital they softened. She extended 
her wasted hand. 

As Paulina reverently bent over that transparent, 
shapely little hand, she observed upon a taper finger 
the mockery of a wedding ring, which had ceased to be 
a sacred emblem of plighted faith. With fervent kisses, 
she bedewed it with expiatory tears. 

Then, taking from her own finger that circlet the 
betrayer had placed upon it with false vows, she put it 
in Miriam's shadowy hand, saying: 


96 


DIVOECED. 


I pray you take it as a pledge between us ; it is 
yours, not mine.” 

Miriam’s large, piercing eyes gazed wonderingly into 
hers. The dark lines rested under them, as if laid 
there by an invisible Presence. 

But Paulina did not shrink. She was sustained by a 
proud consciousness of innocence. She kneAv that she 
had done no wilful wrong to this bruised heart, that 
made this eloquent although mute appeal to her. Indeed, 
she felt a yearning desire to soothe the wound she was 
powerless to heal. The intuitions of pure-hearted 
women are aspirations heavenward, and Miriam’s 
crushed heart responded to Paulina’s gentle advances. 
She held the ring against the light in her thin hand, 
looked at it for a moment curiously, and then said : 

This is a wedding ring, lioio can it belong to me? 
^ylly give it me? She spoke slowly and painfully, with 
her' failing breath. Then- looking upon the one she 
wore, she sobbed, “ This ring hangs loosely- on my 
shrunken finger, but it must descend with me into the 
tomb — it is — my wedding ring.” 

Both are yours,” answered Paulina, with soft* 
insistance, and again she kissed that dainty little hand. 

Let it be,” added she ^'a token.” 

Of what?” asked Miriam. 

'^Good faith,” answered Paulina. 

But,” said Miriam, ^Mt was vowed to yon, and 
you break faith to part with it, even to a woman. 1 
cannot take it,” 


MIRIAM. 


97 


so/^ said Paulina^ who gave it me, des- 
ecrated it in the giving, with false vows.'’^ 

^^How so?^^ again asked Miriam, now so deeply 
interested, that with one of those oft recurring changes 
peculiar to her protean disease, she regained, as it were, a 
momentary strength, and raised herself upon her couch. 

Paulina calmly seated herself on a foot-stool near her, 
and answered, Dear lady, it was thus: I was but a vain, 
foolish, school-girl, and my head turned with silly, ro- 
mantic notions. Accidentally, I met a handsome man 
of middle age, of fine presence, and most fiuent in the 
use of honied phrases. Three months after we met 
we were married. Our mutual vows were scarcely 
plighted, when he made me the terrible avowal that he 
was not a widower, as I had supposed him to be, but a 
divorced man, and she who had been his loving wife 
still living.-’^ 

The base wretch,^^ exclaimed Miriam with hashing 
eyes, and the bright spot on her sunken cheek glowed 
a deeper crimson. 

‘^So I thought,” said Paulina, with a strangely 
exultant tone, for in that very hour I left him, and 
now am here awaiting a divorce.” 

And that other one ? ” asked Miriam, the unearthly 
glow of those eyes blending with the dark shadows be- 
neath them, and all consuming themselves within the 
vivid burning incarnadine of her cheek. 

That other one,” said Paulina, “ was by this false 
man basely deceived.” 

7 


98 


DIVORCED. 


In what way asked Miriam, her voice sinking 
into a weird whisper, and the golden ring of Paulina 
slipped from out her relaxed hand. 

In every way,^'’ replied Paulina. But first let us 
destroy this bauble, which is neither fit for you, nor for 
me to wear;” and stooping, she picked it up, walked 
across the room to the fire that smoldered on the open 
hearth, and with the stately air of a priestess perform- 
ing some mystic rite, she threw it into the mass of 
burning coals, where, bending over it with extended 
hands, she adjured it, saying: Fire consume thee, 

flame purify thee ! Let no mortal henceforth wear thee, 
for thou bringest a curse ! ” 

When Paulina returned to her side, Miriam nodded 
approvingly, as she extended her hand to Paulina. ^‘It 
is well done,” said she. 

The child, who had been a breathless but unnoticed 
looker-on, now sat down at the foot of the couch, with 
his azure eyes wonderingly wide open. ‘^Go on with 
the story now,” said he. Both glanced at him. The 
mother chided reprovingly — Neale!” 

^^The dear boy is right,” said Paulina. ‘‘The story 
is nothing much to tell. It is the old, old tale of 
woman^s trusting faith and man^s perfidy. The wife 
was hidden away in a desolate place; it might be such a 
one as this. She was betrayed by her unfaithful spouse, 
who turned from her, only to deceive another. 

“But, dearest lady, confidence demands a return. 
And you — have you naught to tell?” 


MIRIAM. 


99 


^MVhat is my sad story gasped Miriam. is 

told in still fewer words than yours. A doting wife, a 
handsome husband — very gay, very charming.'’^ Here 
she paused, as if to rest, and sighed — ^^oh, so hand- 
some ! But I, his wife, lost my health and strength in 
giving birth to this precious child. For two years I re- 
mained confined to my room. I bade him go on without 
me all the same — how could society spare him? It wa^ 
lonesome and bitter enough for me to have the world 
absorb him. But what were my needs, compared to 
the exigencies of his life! I could not be so selfish.^’ 

Here she sank back quite exhausted, and closed her 
weary eyes, as if she sought to dream away her little 
span of life, revelling in that early happiness. 

Paulina, taking her listless hand, bedewed it with 
her tears. 

Finally the child spoke. ‘‘^And then, mamma 
She roused herself. ^^True, Neale,^^ she said, ‘^you 
have been told the rest. Five years ago your father 
said to me: ^The doctor insists, Miriam, that you 
must, if you would live — live for me, he said — go to 
the country for change of air. There is that old manse 
that you inherited from your grand-uncle, the miser. 
The air there is pure and bracing.^ 

‘And you, Neale, ^ I asked — "am I to go alone to 
that dreary spot?^ 

"" "Oh no,^ said he cheerily, " the child will accom- 
pany you, and a faithful housekeeper will provide for 
your wants. ^ 


100 


DIVORCED. 


^And when shall I see you, my husband?'’ 

^ After a time/ he said. "The doctor will place you 
there. ^ I went — I waited — I am still waiting — I shall 
ever wait — I feel it; for he comes not.'’^ As she sank 
back on her pillows with a piteous moan, once again as 
if in recurring waves of sound, the tremulous air of that 
long, low room was swayed with the accents of woe. 
Miriam^s sobs were now broken by the terrible racking 
cough, and the dear child cried as children do, whose 
hearts are breaking but not broken. 

Paulina and Nora wept with them. 

But Miriam, gaining courage, continued. ""Can you 
think of five years here? Just here! Always extended 
on this couch. Dreary days, restless, sleepless nights, 
cold in the fearful winters, comfortless — oh, so lonely.'’^ 
""Not lonely, mamma, whispered Neale, ""you have 
me;” and his flaxen ringlets floated like an aureole of 
light around her pale face as he stooped to kiss her. 

""My heart treasure,” she said fondly, kissing him, 
"" you have indeed been all the world for me.” But the 
worst of the worst,” she resumed, with fainting voice, 
"" has been hope deferred. It is said by those who be- 
lieve in a purgatory, that the damned endure nothing 
fiercer than this sickening suspense. Can you measure 
it?” she said, gazing at Paulina with a hunted look. 
""Five years, ever watching, ever waiting. My soul 
has consumed my body during all these wearisome years. 
When I awake in the morning, I ask myself, Avill he 
come to-day ? When night falls, will it be to-morrow? 


MIRIAM. 


' 101 


If the wind moans, I listen — if a leaf but falls, I 
start — if the clouds flit by, I feel his shadow stealing 
in — if the sunshine gladdens, he seems to enter blithely, 
as of old, on the dancing sunbeams. But no, no, no ! 
he will never, never, never come ! ” she fairly shrieked, 
as with a sudden, wild, frenzied movement, she tore 
away the fillet that bound the masses of once raven hair, 
now blanched with grief. They fell like a shadowy sheen 
around her attenuated form, that even now seemed to 
be melting away beyond the dim boundary line. 

“Mamma, sweetness,” asked the child, “why not 
ask this dear lady if she knows him. She comes from 
that world, you know?” 

At this suggestion, a renewed strength again pos- 
sessed her, and seizing Paulina^s arm, with eager looks, 
she exclaimed. 

“Have you ever met my husband, Heale Voland? 
Had you ever seen him, you would remember him, as 
one in ten thousand, thousand.” “ Say, can you bring 
me news of him? Oh! say yes.” 

As Paulina felt the inexpressible yearning of her 
look, her voice, her gesture, she knew that no torture 
could ever equal this cruel suspense which must be 
ended, and she solemnly answered. 

“ I know him well.” 

The child clasped his mother as if to support her, as 
she fell back as one swooning. Paulina paused, but 
Miriam feebly motioned her to go on, saying, “Why 
does he stay away?” 


102 . 


DIVORCED. 


^‘^Do not wish liim to come back,” said Paulina. 

He is utterly unworthy of such love as yours.” 

At this, Miriam, with a flash of renewed force, raised 
herself and in a severe tone said, Woman — beware — 
I am his wife.” 

^^ You are so,” said Paulina, ^Mn the sight of God 
and His holy angels, but no longer so in the false ideas 
of men. He has basely betrayed your faithful heart, 
dearest lady, and — ” 

‘‘ In the name of the living God I adjure you,” inter- 
rupted Miriam fiercely, tell the whole truth.” 

So help me God” asseverated Paulina, now deadly 
pale, ^^he has divorced you.” 

When one lingers on the indefinable line of another 
state of being, the insight is keen. Miriam divined the 
rest like a flash. 

And you,” she wildly shrieked. You are — what?” 
am,” said Paulina solemnly, ^Hhat other wronged 

one.” 

A calmness as of despair succeeded the feverish f uiy 
of suspense. There was not a sound, until the child, 
placing himself between them, as might have been in 
the judgment of Solomon, when the cry arose, whose 
is the child?” with inquiring awe depicted on his inno- 
cent face, with clear, childish voice, rang out the ques- 
tion: 

Mamma, mamma, tell me, what is she to me? Is 
she one of my first parents?” 

She,” said Miriam with a stone-like rigidity, she 


MIRIAM. 


103 


will be your mother when I am no more. Take her 
as one worthy, sent by God. He who worketh good out 
of evil/^ she murmured. ^^Thy will be done. Amen!’' 

And with this supreme act of renunciation, there 
came a peaceful blessing as if from heaven over her 
countenance, and over the worn out, suffering body, fell 
the blessedness of that profound slumber that so often 
heralds approaching dissolution. 


CHAPTEE YU. 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


EALE VOL AND left his bride and Hazlehurst, 



_LM on the day succeeding that marriage which he ex- 
pected would add to his prestige as a society man, in a 
state of baffled rage difflcult to describe. Social prom- 
inence was of the greatest importance to him, and in 
fact his one special desire was to be considered a 
brilliant ornament to society. His tastes were too 
fastidious and exclusive to give large entertainments; 
but to gather around him a select circle of gourmets^ 
invited to discuss a choice dejeuner d la fourclieite or a 
tempting iMit-so'iiper] now and then to lead a German, 
preside over the Terrapin Club, enter a horse at the 
races, bet a trifle, gamble a trifle, know the best wines, 
and how to drink them (a real science which few mas- 
ter), to sail a yacht, to ride well, handle the reins with 
skill, talk horse, enunciate and dress a V anglice — these 
were some of his various accomplishments. 

A man of the world must take lessons of all 
nations. He must bow and eat like a Frenchman, dress 
and talk and ride like an Englishman; be as diplomatic 
as an Italian, as proud as a Spaniard, as arrogant as a 
German, and as profuse as an American . 

If he aspire to be an immense swell, it will be well 


104 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


105 


to find time to skim over the magazines, mildly sneer at 
religion, and affect Oriental philosophy, which a vocab- 
ulary of twenty words will enable him to do, and it has 
a grand sound to use a learned terminology on special 
occasions. He must always seem indifferent, never by 
any mischance be in earnest, eschew as fatal to social 
brilliancy any leaning toward what is called religion, 
speak of orthodox marriage as the exploded tyranny of 
the dark ages, and set aside for the sparkling theories of 
the present day all the ideas of the past as effete. 

The world moves, and we walk free on a very high 
plane in the broad light of the nineteenth century. 
Of course no one ever slips down from theoretical stilts 
to any commonplace level. Certainly Neale Voland 
was not so stupid as even to confound theory and prac- 
tice, or make of the one any logical sequence from the 
other. 

He had inherited an ample fortune which had been 
scarcely equal to the demand on his social position, but 
his means were somewhat enhanced by his marriage 
with Miriam, who held a life interest in a fine real estate 
which was to go to her son in fee simple at her death. 

After he had sent Miriam away to live at the manse, 
he had barely provided for her subsistence, so that the 
greater part of her income had assisted to meet his own 
luxurious requirements. But when a short time previ- 
ous he had procured the divorce that enabled him to 
marry the heiress of Hazlehurst, he had expected that 
this new alliance would bring such a large addition to 


106 


DIVORCED. 


means that were scarcely equal to meet his style of 
living, that he would not feel the loss of Miriam^s mod- 
est property. So that the failure of his plans, also 
involved a money loss he found it difficult to meet. 

Mr. Sly, the senior of the firm of lawyers who had 
procured the divorce, had also become the business 
agent of Miriam, who in fact took no heed as to how 
her wants were supplied, or whence any remittance came. 

Finally, all needed sums were sent directly to the 
woman in charge of the manse, who had been placed 
there by Mr. Sly himself, and was entirely amenable to 
his directions. 

As Neale Voland’s affairs now stood, he was really a 
poorer man than before his divorce' from Miriam, and 
the consequent loss of her income. This uncomforta- 
ble state of things added greatly to his exasperation. 

Yet beyond all money loss he dreaded to encounter 
those covert sneers of the world, whose force he could 
perfectly measure, and which he well knew would greet 
him during the near approaching social season. 

It was now November, and before many weeks the 
round of festivities would commence, when he must 
take his place as a social leader, and hear all the false 
and fair phrases of seeming condolence, but of real sar- 
casm, that would be heaped upon him. 

He knew full well, for was he not a part of that 
very social circle ? what a monstrous sham its conven- 
tionalities were ! and that it exacted first, last, and al- 
ways, but one test — success. 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


107 


People of fashion have no time nor inclination to 
examine causes, criticise means employed, or analyze 
motives. All this is too irksome, but the world does 
demand of its votaries, a prosperous issue of their under- 
takings. Those who enter this charmed circle must 
come prepared to add to the common pleasure, to dwell 
in sunshine and a round of gayeties. 

Why should mistakes, misfortunes, or failures be 
tolerated there ? 

And Neale Voland determined that Paulina should 
either accept the obligations she had assumed, or be 
sacrificed if she persisted in her refusal to live with him. 
Exactly how to accomplish his purpose he did not as 
yet know, but he was ready to attempt any plan that 
promised to secure him from the scornful jests of his 
associates. 

In this dilemma, when the fertility of his own inven- 
tion seemed at fault, he bethought himself of one 
whom he detested, but who had been so very useful to 
him, that notwithstanding his exorbitant charges, and 
the dreaded consequent drain upon his already some- 
what depleted purse, he yet decided once more to con- 
sult. This man was none other than the Mr. Caleb Sly, 
whom Paulina employed, and whom Neale Voland had 
applied to some years previous, regarding an evident in- 
compatibility between himself and Miriam. 

The suggestion had originated with that amiable 
gentleman, of sending that unfortunate lady quietly to 
an isolated place, where it would be expedient to detain 


108 


DIVORCED. 


her until such time as might be found most convenient 
to institute a suit for divorce. 

This discreet advice had been, as we have seen, very 
much to the point, and Neale Voland was quite pleased 
with the result. 

To be sure, Miriam's plaintive little notes made him 
at first feel quite uncomfortable, yet the passing senti- 
mentalism thus evoked, was nothing in comparison with 
the absolute relief of getting an ailing and nervous wife 
put aside in a way that society, as the matter was ex- 
plained, accepted as satisfactory. Indeed, Neale was 
ever an object of interest and sympathy in a certain 
circle on account of the prolonged indisposition of his 
wife, which sympathy was especially exhibited, when he 
now and then delicately alluded to his lonely home. 

Then some women pitied him, and said, ^^It was 
very sad to see a handsome young man endure such a 
trial, which he bore like a moral hero without making 
anyone uncomfortable on his account," while others went 
still farther and hinted, That it was very selfish for a 
sickly woman to stay sick that way; it was better to die 
at once, and give others a chance to make a man happy." 

Neale was satisfied, and having conceived the bright 
idea, after a time, not to trouble himself to open Miriam's 
letters at all, as their effect was depressing, he presently 
found his free and easy life quite suited to his taste, 
and was content to let matters stand as they were, when 
the sudden passion for Paulina made him desirous of 
obtaining nominal as well as absolute freedom. 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


109 


Recalling the former service of Mr. Sly, he at once 
laid his case a second time before him, when he learned, 
to his great satisfaction, that five years of separation 
having elapsed, he could readily procure a divorce from 
Miriam on the ground of her willful desertion. This 
plea had several advantages, too, over that of incompati- 
bility, as it would procure for him the sympathetic con- 
sideration of society, which must at once perceive the 
delicate artifice of ill-health, by which he had tried 
for so many years to condone her conduct before the 
world. 

Besides, as Miriam would never know of the legal 
proceedings instituted, the needed requirements of the 
law for a case of willful absence could so readily be met. 
Her continued staying away, her obstinate silence, even 
after due publication of the facts in her case, made her 
clearly and constructively guilty, and relieved him of 
all responsibility as to the separation. It was as Mr. 
Sly complacently remarked, when he informed his client 
that the suit had been granted, ‘^as pretty a case, and as 
neatly carried through, as any divorce suit out of the 
scores he had procured. So Neale Voland was pro- 
nounced legally divorced from his wife, ‘^she having 
abandoned him for five years together, with willful 
obstinate and continued desertion."" Did heaven ratify 
the judgment?"" 

Now recalling all this, and how smoothly the course 
of his recent true love had sailed into matrimonial seas 
when Caleb Sly stood at the helm as pilot, he felt that 


110 


DIVORCED. 


he again needed his aid, to bring the haughty beauty 
thus wooed and won to terms. 

Thus, suddenly starting from the prolonged re very, 
which had been duly noted by the watchful Hermann, he 
hastily gave the order for his coupe ‘‘to be brought out at 
once to the door ; and the valet who was exceedingly 
quick in all his movements, presently made the announce- 
ment, that the carriage was ready. As Neale Voland 
was about to step into the coupe, he happened to observe 
that this man had taken the place of his footman, and 
held the door for him. Fellow!” he said in a curt 
way, ‘Svhat means this officious service? Where is 
Blaise?” 

The man made a cringing bow, saying in an under- 
tone, I thought it safest sir, recalling the prying in- 
terference of the Eagle into your affairs, to accompany 
you myself so as to guard you against a similar mishap.” 

True, true, thanks,” answered Neale, flushing at 
the mortifying reminder of that important society notice 
in the Eagle , which was so evidently the work of some 

spy- 

As the valet, gently closed the carriage door, and 
Neale sank back into a corner of its cushioned depths, 
well screened by the crimson silk curtain, that the 
thoughtful valet had unlooped, he said to himself. 

Who the devil is this fellow anyhow? He serves 
me with such extraordinary zeal that I mistrust him. 
What can he expect to make by it? Of course he has 
some mercenary plan in his head, and Ifll bet it^^ a deep 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


Ill 


laid one. He has a German name, but he speaks Eng- 
lish better than half the society swells, a deuced sight 
too well, for a foreigner. Let me see, how did I pick 
him up ? Oh, yes, I remember answering his advertise- 
ment which had a grand sound, ^ speaks seven languages^ 
he said. It was a risky thing to have done.” 

It was a half hour^s drive from the fashionable part 
of the town, where Neale Voland^s handsome house stood, 
to the business part of the city, where Sly and Pry had 
their offices. 

Their ante-room was as usual crowded, but Hermann 
tapped at Mr. Sly^s private door, and that gentleman 
opened it with a frown, which immediately changed to 
a gracious smile, as he bade him beg his master to 
come up.” 

As these gentlemen met, they shook hands with such 
earnest manifestations of pleasure, that they did not 
notice that the valet quietly took his place in a small 
private corridor back of the offices, seeming to close the 
door, while in fact he left it so that it could very read- 
ily be pushed slightly ajar without attracting atten- 
tion. 

Delighted to see you,” exclaimed Mr. Sly, rubbing 
his hands together, in the excess of his satisfaction, 
which for once was genuine. 

^^CanT say I am exactly glad to come back. Sly,” 
said Voland, in a dogged way, quite unlike his custom- 
ary suavity. 

Not another divorce suit, eh ? ” suggested the law- 


112 


DIVORCED. 


yer, in a provoking tone that indicated such a proba- 
bility. 

‘^Well, not exactly, not yet, replied Neale in an 
embarrassed way. 

Really! Can’t imagine in that case to what fortu- 
nate circumstance I am indebted for the honor , said 
Sly, with a slight stress on the last word. “ But pray 
be seated,” he at once added, placing for his client an 
easy revolving chair near his own, in readiness for any 
confidential communication. 

Just as Neale sat down, a door softly opened, swing- 
ing on easy hinges, as did all the doors of this office, and 
the twinkling eyes of Mr. Pry were just visible for one 
moment, then withdrawn. 

Slight as was this movement. Sly noticed it and 
frowned, but Neale Voland was not aware of any inter- 
ruption. 

As the lawyer remained silent, with an air of atten- 
tion, the client had to open his case. 

I am here again,” said he, ^^as you may suppose, 
to obtain legal advice, although I must say that I find 
it rather an expensive process.” 

If sir,” interrupted the senior partner, with an 
air of offended dignity, ^^you deem the laborer not 
worthy of his hire, there are other gleaners in the same 
field.” 

Well, let that pass,” said Neale Voland. You 
are the one to bind together my golden sheaves. It’s 
neither here nor there. Sly; I need your aid a deuced 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


113 


sight more than I did at first; for after you managed 
that little affair for me so neatly, being a gay fellow, and 
free, I married again/’ 

I have heard something of this/^ said the attorney; 
‘^pray allow me heartily to congratulate you, my dear 
sir/^ 

Pray, not quite so fast,^’ replied the bridegroom, 
sulkily. Were I a fit person to congratulate I would 
scarcely be here as a client.’^ 

The lawyer resumed his usual attitude of profound 
attention. 

Neale Voland continued : married a young, 

beautiful, and wealthy, orphan girl, who had just at- 
tained her legal majority. The wedding was an odd 
affair, but let that pass; we were married. 

Legitimately married, as a client of ours had it,"*^ 
said Sly, laughing a little, as he recalled the queer 
phrase. 

He should have rather sworn that he was perma- 
nently married,^'’ answered Voland, smiling. But just 
here comes the complication. This beautiful bride of 
mine has spirit enough for seven shrews, and I was so 
silly as not to know her mettle. When I announced to 
her, an hour after the marriage ceremony, that I was a 
divorce, she lapsed into a sentimental rhapsody on the 
subject, and in one word fiatly refused to live with me 
on account of my being a divorced man.^^ 

And what next ?” asked Mr. Sly, with a positive 
leer lurking in the corners of his half closed eyes. 

8 


114 


DIVORCED. 


What next groaned the client. She has fled, 
God knows where, and now I shall stand before the 
world like a born idiot, divorced from one wife whom I 
have made oath has deserted me, and having been really 
deserted by the other. Next thing I suppose, added he 
affecting to laugh, “it will be said that I am the 
original Blue Beard from whom every woman flies.^’ 

The hilarious attorney leaned back in his chair and 
laughed heartily. He really did laugh loud and long, 
and his client was furious. Voland sprang to his feet 
with an oath, for he heard the echo of the world’s laugh 
in that derisive voice, and it galled him to the quick. 
But at the very next instant he sat down again, prom- 
ising to himself to be even with the rascal at a more 
convenient time. Was it not, thought he, more endur- 
able that a mean fellow like Sly should amuse himself, 
than to endure the killing scorn of his equals. So 
down he sat, very quiet and dignifled, which at once 
had its effect upon the diverted Mr. Sly, who checking 
his mirth, said: 

“Beg pardon sir, the picture of a modern Blue 
Beard, that your skill presented to my mental vision, 
was so very droll. Now seriously, what can I do for 
you?” 

“Gad,” replied Neale, “that is just what I wish 
you to tell me. I must find her of course.” 

“That is an easy matter,” answered the attorney, 
“ we lawyers know all the hidden movements of the 
world. Men and women are mere puppets in our hands. 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


115 


Why do you wish to know where your fugitive bride 
has gone 

I intend/^ said Neale Voland in a decisive way, to 
compel her to return — of course legally, you know — 
added he chuckling. 

^^Of course, legally, echoed Mr. Sly, ‘^yet,^^ sug- 
gested he, what if she will not return, or returning 
will not live with you? This is a free country, sir.^'’ 

Neale Voland^s face grew dark, and his husky voice 
showed his anger, as he fairly hissed one word, Ven- 
geance, ” 

The face of the supple attorney also betrayed an in- 
tense feeling, and for a short space of time he leaned 
back in his office chair evidently in deep thought. 

At last he spoke, Did you not mention, Mr. 
Voland, that her reason for refusing to remain with you 
was some fanciful objection on her part, as to your 
being a divorce ?^^ 

^‘1 did,^^ replied he; ^‘the jade has enough silly 
romance on that score, stuffed into her pretty little 
noddle, to set a man crazy. 

‘^But what,” said the lawyer speaking slowly, if 
that wall is torn down?” 

You speak in riddles,” answered the client. 

^^In plain words, Neale Voland,” replied Mr. Sly 
emphatically, ^^You are no longer a divorced man. 
She who was your wife, is dead.” 

‘^Dead ! Poor Miriam dead ! ” groaned her betrayer, 
as the upbraiding past rose before him, as a sheeted 


116 


DIVORCED. 


ghost. He divined, he knew, wlio and what had mur- 
dered her. Strange contrarieties of the human heart ! 
One hour ago he had cursed her between his ground 
teeth, because she did not die, because she dared to 
stand in his way by continuing to live. And what was 
it, now, that his wishes were realized, and her purified 
spirit had taken its flight heavenward, that so dismayed 
him? He fell back in his chair, covered his face with his 
hands, and could not conceal his emotion. The subtle 
attorney gloated upon the picture of distress presented 
with diabolical joy; for this was a curious study of the 
human heart portrayed for his inspection, and to sound 
the depths of the weaknesses and the contradictions of 
human nature was one of his favorite pastimes. In that 
moment of bitter introspection, Neale Yoland began to 
feel some of those mental tortures henceforth to be his. 
It is said There is a worm that never dies, but this is 
one of many musty legends. What should a gay man 
of the world have to do with that cruel handmaid of 
memory, remorse? Tliought travels over the immensity 
of space, with the rapidity of that omnipotence from 
which it emanates, and a lifetime maybe compressed in 
a moment. So Neale Voland felt the old power of Mir- 
iam^s lustrous, glad eyes, as they beamed upon him in 
response to his first protestations of lifelong devotion ; 
then he beheld her as his gentle, loving, all-confiding 
wife, and next as the joyful mother of a beautiful boy, 
when, alas! came the shadow of loss of health. On his 
part, there had been no sympathy for her suffering. 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


117 


only a base and utter selfishness that made her helpless- 
ness wearisome. And the boy? AVhat a wretch he Avas! 
Even paternal affection had been stifled by his huge 
egotism. 

What of the boy? he at last inquired. 

‘‘You will remember/^ replied his counsel, “that 
the mother deserted with the boy.^^ 

“ Yes, yes,’’' responded he, hurriedly. “ I asked you 
where is the boy? You seem to know all about them.’^ 
Hereupon Mr. Sly replied with painfully slow pre- 
cision, as if bent upon prolonging the torture of his 
victim: 

“ Your son, sir, is at present taken care of by your 
newly wedded wife. Miriam, it seems, died in her arms, 
and solemnly bequeathed her the child — 

“ Great God!'’^ cried the horrified man, “ I am lost. 
Paulina will now, I am sure, never consent to live with 
me. I know her temper but too well.’^ 

“You are quite right, replied the candid attorney. 
“ In fact, she says she never will.'’^ 

“And you!’^ exclaimed Voland, turning fiercely 
upon him. “How should you know what she says?” 

“ By a letter,” replied the attorney very quietly, “ that 
I have received from Mrs Brown, who was left in charge 
of Marion at the manse. When your divorce was pro- 
cured, Mr. Voland, you well remember that I, very 
reluctantly, consented to assume the charge of her bus- 
iness affairs. Indeed, when you first sent your wife to 
the manse, I provided a suitable matron to take charge 


118 


DIVORCED. 


of her und her son, as they were helpless and quite 
unable to take care of themselves. Your wife was at that 
time already a confirmed invalid, and your child two 
years of age. That was five years ago.' You have been 
so absorbed in pleasant occupations, as doubtless to 
have forgotten these dates, but I have exercised a con- 
stant care over my ward ever since.” 

Every measured word of this uncalled for recapitu- 
lation inflicted sevei’e pain, as the cruel narrator meant 
it should, upon Neale Voland. 

‘^And my child,” he said, ^^now inherits a fine 
estate through his mother, in fee simple. He must have 
a guardian.” 

"^The Honorable Court has already appointed me 
to fill that place,” replied Mr. Sly with much modesty. 

“Appointed yoit, as guardian of my son!” exclaimed 
the dismayed father with amazement. “And this, with- 
out even consulting me ! Can such things be?” 

“Mr. Voland,” replied the lawyer in a hurt way^ 
“this action was kindly intended by me, in order to 
save you any possible annoyance. I have your own note 
lequesting me to arrange any business matters, relating 
to Miriam^s affairs, written at the time of the granting 
the divorce. I had only to exhibit this note of yours, 
to the court, and I was appointed guardian.” 

“Fool, fool that I am,” muttered Voland; “and 
Paulina, how can you explain her finding Miriam ?” 

“Mr. Voland,” remarked Mr. Sly, with severity, 
“ I am not here to submit to a categorical examination. 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


119 


You came here sir, so you informed me, in order to 
consult as to the best means of avoiding an open scan- 
dal, in consequence of the desertion of your second 
wife. Shall we confer on that point? I beg to remind 
you that my time is scarcely my own, for, as you must 
be aware, other clients are in waiting. 

^^The question, sir, answered Neale Voland, sup- 
pressing his indignation, to so place my present 
wife as to exonerate me before the world.” 

I comprehend,” responded the lawyer, as calmly as 
if he were about to propose some pleasure excursion. 

Suppose, for instance, we confine her in an insane 
asylum. Nothing is easier. You will thus have absolute 
control over her property, and she will doubtless then 
capitulate on your own terms.” 

‘^Sly!” said V-oland, with a fixed, stony stare, 
do believe you are the devil.” 

‘^Scarcely so ancient or honorable a personage as 
your compliment would imply,” said the other laugh- 
ing, ^^but I may be a not inefficient aide, and under 
whose colors, pray, are you enlisted. Squire Voland?” 

I,” coughed he — I am outdone.” 

Perhaps undone ? ” hinted Sly. — “But seriously, it 
will be very easy to prove your bri-de insane. You ad- 
mit that her bridal arrange njents were very eccentric:” 

“Egad ! I can swear to that,” cried the bridegroom, 
with a gleam of hatred in his eyes, for the evil spirit, 
at first half invited, had now entered his soul and taken 
possession of his will. 


120 


DIVORCED. 


^^Then/^ continued the lawyer, ^^you must at once re- 
pair to the manse, accompanied by two physicians. Pay 
them well and they will give you a certificate that she is a 
lunatic. Thereupon take her immediately to an asy- 
lum. Any application on behalf of a wife from her 
husband, thus supported, will be readily received. I 
would advise you to provide liberally for a large and 
handsome room and proper attendance. Doubtless the 
same Mrs. Brown who had Miriam in charge for five 
years, could be induced for a suitable compensation to 
become the nurse of Paulina. It will be a less doleful 
place for the good woman than the manse has been, 
and will prove a recuperative change of air,” whereat he 
gave one of his sardonic little laughs. 

Keale Voland listened half dazed, yet eagerly clutch- 
ing at all the advantages offered. First, there would be 
a large accession to his means, as he could thus control 
her property. 

Secondly, he would become an envied object of the 
sympathetic consideration of society, as one blameless, 
but unfortunate. 

Women of fashion would lavish caresses upon so 
romantic a victim, whose bride became insane on her 
wedding day ; but beyond all, and the tiger in his heart 
gave a great bound of savage exultation, there was re- 
venge. 

But,” inquired Voland, where am I to find the 
two doctors ?” and a shadow of doubt passed over his 
face. 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


121 


As an act of friendship/’ said Mr. Sly slowly, I 
will consent to act as one of the physicians.” 

You !” exclaimed Neale Voland, in renewed aston- 
ishment. 

Yes/’ said Sly coolly, ‘^1 at one time studied med- 
icine, and obtained a diploma to practice, but later on 
I concluded that it would be more interesting and re- 
munerative to become a divorce lawyer, yet I confess 
that I am for the nonce perplexed. I can, upon an 
emergency, a2:)peal to my junior, Mr. Pry, to assume 
medical honors, but I would prefer a genuine member 
of the faculty for the work before us, as we always con- 
sider every question in its purely legal aspect, and in 
this case we must have two doctors.” 

At this instant Hermann opened the door and en- 
tered the room. 

‘^Egad, fellow,” cried his master in a rage, ^Hiow 
do you dare ?” 

‘^Beg pardon,” pleaded the valet, with his usual 
cringing bow, thought I was sent for, and just as I 
opened the door — indeed I beg a thousand pardons, 
but I thought I heard the gentleman say that a physi- 
cian was needed in some case. Now, I am a graduate 
of a German Medical University, and will be most hap- 
py to assist in any consultation. I flatter myself, sirs, 
that you will find me equal to any emergency/* and he 
laid special stress on the last words. 

Neale Voland was about to make an angry reply, 
when the more discriminating Mr. Sly, rising, very 


122 


DIVORCED. 


politely offered him a chair, saying, am happy, sir, 
to meet with a learned member of the faculty. Kindly 
be seated.^’ 

Whereupon, Hermann very deliberately took the 
proffered chair. 

Your full name, if you please. Doctor?” asked the 
astute lawyer. 

Herr Hermann Luftschloffen,” instantly responded 
he. 

^^You speak English remarkably well for a Ger- 
man,” casually observed Mr. Sly. 

My mother was an Englishwoman,” quietly replied 
the man; ^^but as to that matter, when Mr. Voland 
engaged my services some months ago, 1 mentioned to 
him that I could speak seven languages.” 

‘‘That is so,” said that gentleman. 

“Permit me to inquire,” remarked Mr. Sly, “why 

so accomplished a man engaged as a valet ” 

cause I said the man, slightly shrugging 
his broad shoulders; then added, frankly, “The fact is, 
gentlemen (and I take it for granted we speak confi- 
dentially), I may as well admit that I was a medical 
student, but am now a political exile.” 

“Egad!” exclaimed his master. 

“Perhaps a Nihilist?” interrogated Mr. Sly, persist- 
ently. 

A smile of derision overspread the face of the man. 
“Nihilist? No. Revolutionist? Yes. Nihilism only 
knows how to destroy. We have higher and broader 


THE CONSPIRACY. 


123 


ends in view. We would subvert the present order of 
things, and out of the ruins build up the world^s com- 
monwealth. Poets have dreamed our dreams! Philos- 
ophers have speculated on our theories. We are Pan- 
tisocrats. Our science involves a view of all the depart- 
ments of human knowledge. At present, gentlemen, 
you behold in me — a martyr to science. 

‘^You will do,^'’ said Mr. Sly, dryly. To-morrow, 
then, Mr. Voland, we three gentlemen (and he empha- 
sized the ‘we^) will depart for the manse. 

^‘^Iknew,^^ soliloquized that able attorney, as he 
bowed out his coadjutors, ^^that the rascal had been 
eavesdropping and had our secret. But the devil has 

sent him in the nick of time, when he was needed” 

Now, Sly, play your cards, old fellow, as well as you 
shuffle them, and you’ll win trumps. Paulina will die 
sooner than marry that wretch, and once in the asylum, 
I can soon get her out, when she will be eternally grate- 
ful to me. Humph! I’ll get her out if she will marry 
me, and if she won’t — why, let her stay there for a 
lunatic.” 

But there was still one other, who repeated, ‘^Mf I 
save her, she will be eternally grateful, and marry 
me ” 

Sly started. ^^What strange whispering was that? 
or was I dreaming? Was it ^such stuff as dreams are 
made of?’ Aha! wake up. Sly!” 


CHAPTEK Yin, 


TAN^GLED THREADS 



HE last days of November closed in bleak and 


A- wintry, and as bitter cold on the mountain top as is 
mid-winter in the plains below. 

Already a heavy snow had fallen, and the air was 
full of the penetrating chilliness that betokens the com- 
ing winter storm. 

The freezing winds swept wildly over the spot wdiere 
the old manse stood, they coursed madly with wanton 
'swirl under its projecting eaves, rushed with rude vio- 
lence against the big chimney top, whose hoarse throat 
responded with hollow moan, or skurried through every 
gaping crevice, filling the rambling house with mysteri- 
ous whisperings, then died away in plaintive, almost hu- 
man cries in the far distance. In the brightest days of 
midsummer, the manse at best was cheerless and wore a 
menacing look, as if built to deter rather than to invite 
approach, and all around it on this skyey acclivity, pin- 
nacled crags frowned like huge ramparts, adding to the 
threatening, desolate aspect of the place. 

The crusty, cranky, miserly man, who had half a 
century since made of this grim dwelling a living 
tomb, seemed to have infused the encysted hardness of 
his grasping nature into its very stones. 


124 


TANGLED THREADS. 


125 


It was whispered that the spot was uncanny, and 
that the sordid spirit still lingered earth-bound, held 
down by fiery chains, to the money-bags over which he 
had gloated during his miserable life. In that portion 
of the house which he had inhabited, there was a peculiar 
musty odor, as if from the dampness of unventilated 
vaults, and strange sounds had certainly been heard, by 
the few persons who had ventured to remain over night 
in the octagon chamber which the old man had always 
occupied. 

For many years he had secluded himself in this 
room, and often for months at a time, the solitude of his 
hermitage was not disturbed. Finally, he was no more 
heard of, but whither he had gone, or what the cause of 
his disappearance no man could tell. 

There are lives that rotate for a period round some 
physical axis, then suddenly fade away out of sight, lost 
like the plunging shooting star in an unfathomable 
abyss. 

There are lives now being calmly lived out, in seem- 
ingly narrow grooves ; destined suddenly to be extin- 
guished in some dark, mysterious way, whose fateful 
blotting out, alone invests them with a romantic 
interest. 

And so it was that this man, who had virtually cut 
himself off from all communion with his race, who had 
of his own free will severed the sweet links that bind 
souls with endearing ties, and who, in his relations to 
humanity had made himself a nonentity, became, through 


126 


DIVORCED. 


the mystery of his vanishing from sight, an interesting 
object of search. 

At first tliere were suspicions that he might have 
been foully dealt with, on account of the amassed trea- 
sures he was thought to have accumulated, and officers 
of the law were sent to examine the house, but no trace 
of the missing man could ever be found; nor any, not 
even the least evidence of hoarded wealth. 

So people at last came to the conclusion that this 
strange ending was but the natural sequence of an ec- 
centric life, and that the stories of hidden stores were 
mere inventions. Yet his whimsical conduct had indi- 
cated a fear of some violent taking off. 

The octagon room, where he had so persistently 
shut himself up, was a solidly built inner apartment, 
with the exception of , one outside wall. The openings 
in this wall that served for windows were but small 
apertures, set high and closely secured by iron grating. 
This prison was paneled in wood, and had an exceed- 
ingly deep open fire-place, that had no corresponding 
outside vent, but communicated by an interior flue 
with another chimney. This peculiar construction was 
one of the oddities of the house, and must at any time 
have produced a very imperfect draught for the egress 
of smoke. 

But for many years after the disappearance of its 
owner, the manse had been uninhabited, or if casually 
visited by those whose curiosity led them to inspect the 
house, this particular room had rather been avoided. 


TANGLED THREADS. 


127 


not only on account of its dismal construction, but also 
because everyone had an indefinable feeling of repul- 
sion regarding it. Is it an idle fancy that causes some 
places to inspire one with secret apprehension and vague 
dislike, or does a magnetic infiuence really infiltrate 
all substances, and leave throughout nature a written 
record, affecting our perceptions in a way we feel, but 
fail to understand ? The writing is there, although we 
may not read its meaning, just as the universe is but 
one vast symbol of the creator, although we may never 
grasp the ideas represented. Thus the air we breathe, 
the earth we tread, the rocks that rise before us, the 
houses we occupy, the very furniture we use, have re- 
ceived certain impressions which in turn they transmit. 
This is a sentiment generally recognized, and often even 
expressed by matter-of-fact people who would be 
ashamed to acknowledge any vagary of the imagination, 
but who will all unconsciously exclaim regarding some 
venerable piece of furniture which has been handed 
down through several generations, ^^Oh, if this could 
only speak, what a story it would tell ! ” 

But the mute embodiment utters no sound, and the 
story is never told. 

Thus it was with the history of the old manse, if 
aught there was to divulge, it remained hidden. 

One person indeed, who had been sent there on several 
occasions, had questioned the sphinx. 

This was none other than Mr. Obadiah Pry, of Sly 
and Pry, who during those dreadful five years of poor 


128 


DIVORCED. 


Miriam’s imprisonment, had paid several visits there, to 
arrange matters of business with the Mrs. Brown, whom 
Sly had placed in charge of the place and its inmates. 

This gentleman, who had an investigating turn of 
mind, had made an extremely careful inspection, so far 
as his limited time would permit, of the peculiarities of 
the building. But, unfortunately, he was always so 
hurried, that his painstaking examinations had only 
been partially successful. Yet the discoveries that re- 
warded his diligence were so curious, that he felt quite 
sure there were still other things to be unraveled, and 
he promised to amuse himself at his caidiest leisure, 
in a more patient study of the surroundings. 

Yet he was too mistrustful, and far too prudent, to 
communicate this information to any one, and least of 
all, to his senior partner Mr. Caleb Sly. 

Trust and mistrust, was his paradoxical motto,' as re- 
garded his relations with that astute individual, which 
could be thus explained in a satisfactory manner. His 
partnership rested on a theory of trust, but his absolute 
knowledge of the way in which their business was con- 
ducted, caused him to mistrust. So it came to pass that 
among other things, the junior knew considerably more 
about the architectural freaks of this building than did 
his shrewd senior. 

Then there was Mrs. Brown, the respectable matron, 
who had preceded Miriam’s coming, and arranged for her 
reception the more inhabitable portion of the house. 
After the arrival of mother and child, she had served 


TANGLE!) THREADS. 


129 


them three meals a day, the best she could prepare un- 
der such unfavorable circumstances. She was neither 
kind nor unkind to her wards, during the weary length 
of time in which she was their custodian. But she pre- 
served an unvarying silence, that was more oppressive 
than could have been the most voluble manifestations 
of dislike. She was a small, shriveled old woman, with 
beetle brows, and eyebrows heavily shaded, that grew 
into each other without any intervening space. Her 
deep-set eyes were expressionless, and the uniformity of 
the lines above them gave her countenance a heavy 
look. 

As Miriam became more feeble and nervous, she 
grew to have an almost childish dread of this poor old 
soul, which her son noticing with quick observation, 
the dear child sought to guard his mother against the 
intrusion. lie marked the times of her coming to them 
with food, and would listen for her step, when he would 
meet her on the threshold and receive from her whatever 
she brought. Nor did the aged creature take any 
offense at such a proceeding, for it rather suited her own 
shy disposition to be let alone. It was evident that some 
cruel repression had weighed upon her life, and borne 
so heavily u2:)on it as to hermetically close her mind and 
heart against the ordinary emotions of daily life. 

She seemed ever to be in fear of a presence that 
might at any moment appear, and yet to be possessed of a 
deep desire, that some one might come who never came. 
And so she dragged on, year after year, in a state of 
9 


130 


DIVORCED. 


mingled hope and despair, not unlike that which 
agitated Miriam herself, only in her case, cruel force had 
deadened the very sources of emotion. Thus these two 
women endured each according to the full measure of 
their nature, a living death in this gloomy old house. 
But Miriam had passed away, and her mortal remains 
reposed amid the dead of her race, in a small burying- ^ 
ground adjoining the manse, on this elevated platform 
of mountain summit. 

The coming of Paulina and Kora had been an- 
nounced by a letter from Mr. Caleb Sly, whose orders 
the crone most implicitly obeyed, in which he -directed 
her to take them in special charge, to humor their 
wishes as far as possible, but by no means to allow them 
to receive any visitors ; or, if perchance any one came, 
to report proceedings faithfully to him. The tone of the 
letter was mandatory and even threatening. In other 
words they were to be guarded as Miriam had been, only 
a greater care was to be exercised in providing for their 
comfort. 

Mr. Obadiah Pry consented to take this important 
communication in person, and also to see that various 
articles of luxury were added to the meagre appoint- 
ments of Paulina’s apartment. This visit had been 
made only the day previous to Paulina’s arrival, but so 
quietly, that even the child had not been aware of his 
having been there ; he having entered and departed by 
a secret passageway only known to himself, the better 
to escape observation. 


TANGLED THREADS. 


131 


Consequently there was, on the part of Mrs. Brown, 
no interference with the movements of either Paulina 
or Nora. 

She continued, as was her wont, to appear but for 
a moment, much to Nora’s surprise, depositing the meals 
prepared on the nearest table, and making an instant 
exit. 

Nora had never before met with a silent woman, and 
she looked upon her with real compassion. 

“ The poor, dear craythur,” she would say, shaking 
her head mysteriously, ‘^it’s spacheless she is — the 
more’s the pity. An’ I wud rayther hev’ a bee in 
me bonnet nor stan’ widout me tongue ter wag in me 
head. Blist, an’ it’s a sorry sight, to see a he, nor^' 
mostwise a she, so afflicted.” 

These comments, and many more of the same kind, 
were always made in a loud tone of voice to Mrs. 
Brown, as if with the amiable intention of piercing her 
deafness if possible — but as that individual made no 
sign whatever when thus addressed, Nora was now fully 
convinced that the woman was a mute. Acting upon 
tliis happy idea, she never by any accident got a 
glimpse of her, that she did not at once indulge in the 
most extraordinary pantomime, and as even these dem- 
onstrations were disregarded, her gesticulations became 
each day more and more complicated. 

Notwithstanding these determined efforts, no com- 
munication was ever effected with that unimpression- 
able being. As Miriam sank rapidly after that sad di y 


132 


DIVORCED. 


of their first meeting, both the dear child and Paulina 
were too deeply absorbed with their loving attendance 
upon the dying woman, to take any heed of Nora’s 
queer manifestations to Mrs. Brown. * * * 

The tragedy was at an end, the sacrifice of an inno- 
cent life consummated, and the dead buried by the 
kind offices of the good farmer, who had brought 
Paulina to Timber Kidge. 

This man afterwards passed by almost daily, always 
stopping as he did so to bawl out at the top of his 
voice, ‘‘Halloo the house!” which he continued until 
Nora appeared to answer his questions. 

He formed their sole communication with the outer 
world, and faithful Mrs. Brown, in pursuance with 
her explicit instructions, hastened out with Nora, 
always standing stock-still beside her, until the man 
left. 

But Nora, who was possessed with the idea that she 
was a mute, began also to consider her as an imbecile, 
and so paid no heed to any of the woman’s actions. 

“Poor thing! poor thing!” she would say, standing 
in front of her and tapping her own head significantly, 
“ its clane.daft she is.” 

So it happened that Mrs. Brown knew without any 
difficulty all their intentions as soon as they were 
formed, through Nora’s indiscreet and confidential talks 
with the farmer, to which she listened attentively. 

Some ten days or more had sped their course since 
Miriam’s death. The grief of the beautiful boy which 


TAN'GLEt) THREADS. 


133 


at first had been so passionate as to endanger his life, 
was subsiding into a settled sadness, if possible more 
painful to behold in a child, than the wild outburst of 
his first frenzy. 

Paulina, who had reverently accepted from the dying 
mother the sacred charge and care of her darling baby, 
was more preoccupied with the sweet and tender trust 
confided to her, than with reflections about her own sit- 
uation. She soon realized the absolute need, if she 
would save the precious child, of a speedy change of 
place and scene. 

In his interest, and for his dear sake, she resolved 
to overcome any repugnance she might feel about 
returning home, and so, greatly to Nora’s delight, it 
was decided to return to Hazlehurst with the child. 

Nora was busy perfecting the needful arrangements 
for their near departure, with their friend, the farmer-, 
who was to drive them back to the station, from whence 
the journey to Hazlehurst could be easily made. 

Mrs. Brown did not fail to keep Mr. Caleb Sly duly 
informed of all these plans, and it was his accurate 
knowledge of their approaching departure, that decided 
him to mature his own schemes as rapidly as possible, 
and leave at once with his associates for Timber Hidge. 

* * * * 

For some days past the (jnivering, muffled winds, 
like some savage monster raging in his gelid den, 
eager to lay waste the helpless earth, had swept in fitful 
wintry blasts around the manse, but now, gaining 


134 


DIVORCED. 


strength as the elements combined to usher in the gath- 
ering storm, there sprang forth with sullen bound from 
tlie boisterous northeast, a strong and steady gale, laden 
with heavy humors and with frozen breath obscuring 
all the sky. 

The sun set, a gloomy orb, as if affrighted out of 
sight, hidden from view by mountain waves of troubled, 
surging clouds. And thus the night was ushered in 
with tumult, dark girt around with terror. 

Nora had been very busy for several hours, and 
Paulina^s preparations were quite completed for their 
departure on the morrow. 

The same trusty farmer, who had brought them 
thither, had engaged to take them away in a large com- 
fortable sleigh, lined with sheep-skins, and Paulina, who 
was terrified at the violence of the mountain storm, and 
anxious to try for the dear child, the effect of the pleas- 
ing change to her own luxurious, cheerful home, was 
well content that they were going to leave. 

There had also been a hurried movement all that day 
within the usually quiet house, for Mrs. Brown, sudden- 
ly galvanized by some powerful action, became so very 
restless as even to attract Nora^s attention. She ner- 
vously flitted from room to room, opening up musty 
places, that had never before been disturbed by her, 
then closing them again, and even glancing in upon 
them from time to time. This uneasiness of hers went 
on increasing, until Nora, who began to observe her ac- 
tions with much curiosity, felt quite sure that she had 


TANGLED THREADS. 


135 


now gone quite out of her mind, so that whenever the 
poor woman re-appeared, she was saluted with the ex- 
clamation ^^daft, clane daft.^^ Yet amid all her evident 
agitation, never once did she speak one word, either of 
assent or dissent. 

Thus the eventful day wore on to its turbulent close. 

The heavy wooden shutters were at last fastened for 
the night with strong iron bolts, the outer door well 
secured, and night drew on apace. 

The log of wood which had been all ablaze, now 
smoldered in the deep-set open fireplace, throwing out 
so little heat from its yawning mouth, that Paulina, the 
child and Nora, were seated on the wooden settle, within 
the recessed fireplace. It was as if the once congealed 
heart of the forest^s monarch that had reared its lofty 
head defiant of these very wintry storms, but now cut 
down and prostrate, had shot forth angry fiames ere it 
died away of fierce protest against such wanton destruc- 
tion. 

The glimmering scattered rays of light, scarcely 
reached out into the far corner of the long, low room, 
where was the couch upon which Miriam had so lately 
struggled with the angel of Death. Now and then, a 
dickering gleam filled the room as with a presence, 
tlien subsided into feeble shadow. The drooping child 
laid his languid head against Paulina’s compassionate 
heart, and his pale face, spiritualized by grief, looked so 
innocent and pure, half hidden by its encircling wealth 
of flaxen ringlets. 


130 


DIVORCED. 


Neale knew that this was to be his last night at the 
old home, where his saddened baby life had taken on 
the semblance of age, in its sorrowful experiences. It 
was plain that his thoughts lingered in the past, and 
were with his idolized mother, for every now and then, 
he raised his little head, cast a hurried, half startled 
look towards the bed, then hid his face with his hands 
clasped over his eyes, as if to shut out too sad a sight, 
then drew still closer to Paulina. 

At this, she would stoop and kiss his hair, stroke 
out the mass of tangled curls with dainty touch, and 
soothe the fair boy with tender, soft caress. 

There had been a prolonged silence, for Paulina’s 
thoughts were very busy, and Nora was tired out, when 
little Neale asked with a faint sob. 

Must we leave mamma here ?” 

^^My darling,” whispered Paulina, ^^she is not here. 
The beautiful part of her that loved you so, has gone 
to Heaven.” 

I do not like Heaven,” sighed he. 

Neale!” expostulated Paulina, be but good and 
patient, and you will meet her there.” 

And will my naughty papa go too?” asked he. 

Only God knows the end,” answered Paulina. 

"Hf,” said the boy, sitting up very straight, his 
infantile face expressing an angry flash of spirit, ^‘^if I 
thought 7/ e would dare” — and he shook a doubled-up 
tiny flst, as if beckoning back some invisible intruder. 

At this precise moment, commingling with the in- 


TAiq'GLEI) THREADS. 


137 


describable uproar of the elements without, was heard 
the sharp ring of horses hoofs, accompanied by a con- 
fusion of sounds, as if of the blustering voices of men. 

Scarcely had this sudden outburst dismayed the 
affrighted women, when in quick succession came the 
clangor of the near and still nearer approach of men 
and horses. 

Then Mrs. Brown, darting across the hall with rapid 
movement, drew back the creaking bolt, and threw 
wide open the great front door. As it swung upon its 
rusty hinges, it was hurled against the wall by the force- 
ful fierceness of the furious storm. 

Thus borne onward with the tempest^s awful power, 
throughout the secret crevices of that sin-laden house, 
rushed in the howling demons that ride upon the 
shrieking blast — and the familiars of these wicked 
men took possession of this old manse, bringing with 
them still others, whose name is legion. 

Yet, even inthiswoful hour, unmixed evil did not 
prevail, for there remained ready for strong and valiant 
conflict, the protecting power of good angels, the sure 
and ever faithful guardians of innocence. And woe 
betide those doomed souls, when to these shall be added 
the avenging ministers of God^s justice ! 

Nor are such scenes imaginary myths, or nursery 
fables wherewith to startle children or amuse the cred- 
ulous. For no one thing is more clearly written out in 
the pages of history, no hand-writing on the wall is 
more legible than the plain fact, that whenever the 


138 


DIVORCED. 


measure of iniquity is heaped full and running over, 
even-handed retribution comes. 

We do not always succeed in holding the untangled 
threads in this life; but we may rest assured that there 
exists no riddle unsolved in the hereafter, and what may 
we not dread for that nation, which persistently violates 
the great moral law, upon which rests the stability and 
the permanency of its foundation. 


CHAPTEE IX. 

THE CONSPIRATORS. 

C EOUOHED. in a remote corner of the quaint hall, 
holding in her trembling hands a small lantern, 
whose dim, unsteady light scarce relieved the utter 
darkness around, poor Mrs. Brown cowered in an 
attitude of supplication. 

At last she had reached that dread crisis, alike feared 
and hoped for, and she was in the very presence so long 
and so eagerly expected . 

But oh, the cruel, cruel agony! The dastardly 
wretch never once vouchsafed to her imploring gaze, 
even a glance of recognition ! 

Scalding tears coursed down the furrowed channels 
of her withered cheeks, as she bent her hungry, wistful 
eyes upon one of the three men who had just entered. 

But so strong was her habit of self-control, that even 
in that supreme moment no word of fond avowal gave 
utterance to the violence of her emotion. 

And yet he saw it all, measured it all too with that 
keen subtle analysis, that never failed him. But from 
out of the depths of his malign heart, no responsive 
chord of pity, or of human affection, was touched. 

Oh, how ineffably base, how unfeeling, how stony- 
139 


140 


DIVORCED. 


hearted! Is there in God^s universe aught comparable 
to the savagery of a wicked man? 

Woman, what means this idiotic drivelling? lead 
the way,'^ demanded Sly with a rasping sneer. 

To the miser^s accursed room, where he walled him- 
self in,^’ ordered Voland. 

ha!^^ sardonically laughed Hermann, ^^we are 
here to divide his treasures, and so saying he caught 
the still open door with his sinewy grasp, and with strong 
and supple arm, slammed it with such power, that, in 
its closing, the oaken rafters rang again with a loud noise, 
that reverberated through every nook and corner of the 
startled house, and died away in manifold mysterious 
whispers and re-echoing jibes of. we will divide his 
treasures.^^ 

The trio slowly ascended the creaking stairs, preceded 
by Mrs. Brown, whose tottering limbs almost refused to 
bear her weight, as clinging to the balustrade for sup- 
port with one hand, she held the iante^’n with the other. 

But Sly, seemingly impatient at the delay, rudely 
seized the dim light from her feeble hand«, whispering 
to her as he did so: 

^^'Fool, lock the door on the outside where she is, 
and leave the key withm the lock.” 

The woman turned to obey, and stumbling down the 
stairs was soon lost to view. 

In another moment Sly pushed open the door of 
the miser’s bedchamber, from whence issued blinding 
smoke. 


THE CONSPIRATORS. 


141 


^^The old Hecate/^ snarled Sly, wrote her to 
have a good fire.” 

The curmudgeon clung to a bat’s cave,” said Neale 
Voland, as he entered, ‘‘but we’ll ventilate matters and 
see what a rousing fire and a roistering supper can do.” 

“The hampers are in the hall below, I will bring 
them up,” said Hermann, and he groped his way down 
the rickety stairs again, toward the upper end of the 
hall, where Voland and Sly had pitched in everything, 
pell mell, on their arrival, leaving Hermann to stable 
the horses as best he could, in a deserted out-building 
near the house. 

“I’ve half a mind,” mumbled he, “to take the up- 
per hand myself. Only a niggardly thousand for this 
night’s work. But that dog Sly shall be a whipped cur, 
before I let him go; and as to that fool, Voland, after 
I’ve squeezed him dry, I can run away with his dainty 
bride — I’m tempted to play him that trick now — hal- 
loo, what have we got here?” cried he, as he stumbled 
over Mrs. Brown, who was crouched on the floor at the 
door of Paulina’s room, where Sly had sent her. He 
had evidently hurt her, for there was a low, involun- 
tary moan. 

“Be still, will you?” said he fiercely. “Raise a 
light here and let a man see where the hampers are.” 

As if expecting some such summons, without saying 
a word, the old woman stretched forth her hand and 
turned outward the light side of a bull’s eye in the di- 
rection indicated. 


142 


DIVORCED. 


You’re a jewel/’ said the man, turning to look at 
her, then adding with a coarse chuckle, ‘^set in a toad’s 
head.” But he at once took in the situation as he saw 
the key in the outside of the door. Their prize was in 
that room, and this woman was on guard. He paused 
a moment, as if undecided whether to push aside the 
old creature and make away with the coveted prize then 
and there, trusting to the rich guerdon to be looked 
for from Paulina’s gratitude, or to play out his part as 
agreed upon. 

^^I’ll wait and take all chances in this deal,” again 
muttered he, as he stooped to pick up the various bas- 
kets and bundles, to carry them up-stairs. 

The three men now busied themselves, without more 
ado, in prejparations for a night’s revel. 

Sly heaped on fagots of wood, that were piled up in 
the deep chimney corner, fanning them into a bright 
blaze, while Neale Voland critically examined, with the 
trained eye of a connoisseur, various bottles of wine and 
flasks of liquor, to make sure that they were in prime 
order, before commencing the gay revelry. 

The fastidious man of fashion, the President of the 
Terrapin Club, was about to make a night’s orgy in 
strange company; he whose sparkling dinner-table talk' 
and accomplished manners made the delight of fair 
women and the envy of vain men, whose fine voice and 
even occasional festive improvisations gave him a first 
place in prandial feasts. How he had fallen! About 
to hobnob with a miserable pettifogger, who had no pro- 


THE COHSPIKATOKS. 


143 


fessional standing other than that of being a smart 
trickster, aHd with a low adventurer, his whilom valet ! 
But, impelled by a thousand considerations of self-in- 
terest, and inspired by a fierce thirst for vengeance, he 
had taken that first step, from which he could not ex- 
tricate himself. So, casting back any natural com'punc- 
tion that a gentleman might possibly feel, he tried only 
to think of the gastronomic pleasure he was about to 
indulge in. 

a freezing night, said he, shivering. *‘^Ye 
must mull this claret, although it’s a pity, too, to spoil 
its delicate flavor, and this fiery punch needs to be taken 
hot to warm a man; but we can chill this bottle of fine 
Amontillado up in the jail’s window here, and thus hope 
to 23reserve its exquisite aroma, and the Chablis may be 
placed on its side near at hand.” 

Meanwhile Hermann dusted off an old deal table, 
carefully propped up its unreliable legs, and spread over 
the rough boards a white cloth, placing the most deli- 
cate viands upon the snowy surface, with as much care 
as if he were still a hired valet and not raised to the 
dignity of a conspirator in a damnable plot. 

Gentlemen,” said he when all was ready, ^Hhe 
dinner is served; be pleased to be seated.” 

^^We are a trinity of good fellows, and represent a 
unity of interest,” remarked Mr. Caleb Sly, as he -took 
the place that Voland as amphitryon pointed out to him. 

That gentleman, with a refinement of egotism per- 
fectly understood in select circles, quietly established 


1 


144 


DIVORCED. 


himself in the most comfortable chair nearest the 
lire. 

‘‘Doctor, pray be seated/^ he said to Hermann, em- 
phasizing the titular distinction. 

And that person, who was never troubled by any scru- 
ples of false modesty, pleasantly took the designated place. 

After all, there was no lack of comradeship, for the 
three, each in his way, were very clever men. The 
spiced wines, the hot punch, the forced meats, united to 
do their mischievous work. Toasts topped off the 
bumpers, one upon the other, in quick succession, 
mingled with boisterous laughter and broad humor — 
until at last, Neale broke forth into an extemporized 
convivial song. His voice was pitched high, and re- 
sounded throughout the old manse. Perhaps, in his 
overheated brain, he fancied himself presiding over 
the Terrapin Club, for throwing back his handsome 
head, expanding his chest, and carelessly tapping 
time with the dexter thumb on the table, he sang: 
Awake ye devils! and enshrine, 

Our gods, in bottles of old wine. 

Whose musty odors and bouquet, 

Shall drive all sombre thoughts away! 

May the dim shade of Epicure 
Our gastronomic hits endure; 

Let sparkling Chablis dull care kill. 

We fill our goblets, drink at will. 

Our feast transcends that wanton age. 

When woman fair is all the rage. 

Where wine and wit commingled flow: 

Then gayly sings the courtly beau. 


THE CONSPIRATORS. 


145 


"^Capital! "" applauded both the men, only, sug- 
gested Sly, very slowly, with diabolic malice, ‘^'the allit- 
eration of our host is incomplete. It always was, wit, 
wine, and — woman. 

''By the gods!'" shouted Voland, as if crazed by 
some sudden impulse, " wit, wine and woman shall go 
together still. ,We will bring one, as mistress to this 
feast, fit to preside over an emperor's banquet.” 

All three sprang to their feet, but Voland, beckon- 
ing to them to be seated, hurriedly left the room. 

A madman,'' sneered Sly. "I’ll go after him — 
Doctor, stay where you are — presently I shall return,'' 
and so saying, he hastened to follow Voland. 

"A madman and a rascal,” added Hermann. " I'll 
watch them both,” and, leaving the room on tiptoe, he 
glided along the dark corridor, to occupy himself with 
his favorite amusement of eavesdropping. 

* * ♦ sis sis sis 

This fearful night was now well advanced, and at 
least three hours had elapsed since the terrified group 
in Miriam's old room had been transfixed with horror, 
when the house was so suddenly taken possession of by 
these wicked men. 

Paulina instantly comprehended that she was in 
mortal peril, as she successively heard and recognized 
their voices ; and with the quickened perception of her 
danger, by one of those flashes of intelligence that often 
clear away mental doubt, she divined the nature of the 
10 


146 


DIVORCED. 


snare into which she had fallen, although of course she 
could not as yet measure its extent. 

That the man Sly had sent her to this desolate spot, 
in order that she might meet poor Miriam, she had from 
the first understood after her arrival, although she could 
not understand the motives that had actuated him. 

Mrs. Brown, too, had inspired her with mistrust, 
and had she not been so deeply interested in the fate of 
Miriam, and in the future of her lovely child, she prob- 
ably would have been afraid to stay. But her noble un- 
selfishness had detained her where she felt sure that 
Providence had sent her. 

But now this same scheming man appeared to her 
in something approaching his true nature, and she felt 
that he was false to her and in some way leagued with 
Neale Voland, who sought to encompass her ruin. All 
these bitter thoughts were presented to her newly 
aroused imagination, but as the net-work of intrigue 
closed in around her, her soul rose equal to the dire 
extremity. 

True heroism, like the century plant, may not 
reach its perfect bloom but once in a hundred years ; 
and those who are heroic may live out their lives and 
fill obscure graves without the needed opportunity to 
develop that inherent quality; but when at last all con- 
ditions meet, and the fullness of time has come, then 
the perfected flower bursts forth to view. 

Three hours of mortal anguish had passed in which 
Paulina’s strained ear had caught every sound; she knew 


THE CONSPIRATORS. 


147 


when the sharp click of the lock turned a key in the 
door of their room on the outside, what that meant. 

‘^We are prisoners in the hands of cruel men,” she 
whispered to Nora. 

^^Are you afraid, mamma?” the child asked. He 
had never before called her by that dearest of names to 
him, and now he did so as it were unconsciously. 

Yes, I am afraid Neale,” she replied, knowing 
that it was silly to try and deceive him. ^^What 
are we to do?” he whispered, clinging with arms folded 
around her neck. 

‘^Look at Nora, Neale,” she answered, '^and do as 
she does. Pray’^ 

From the first moment of uproar, Nora had fallen 
on her knees beside Paulina, and taking her rosary out 
of her pocket where she always carried it, she had never 
ceased to pray. She, too, knew that they were in deadly 
danger, and fast as hailstones pattered, fell the unend- 
ing repetition of pater and ave. Thereupon, the almost 
baby-boy unclasped his hands with an awed look, and 
went down on his little knees beside the old nurse. 

He did not know how to pray in set forms of words, 
but his heart was full of prayer. Then, faith and inno- 
cence united, arose like odorous incense before the Lord, 
and the sweetness thereof pierced the clouds; and Pau- 
lina began to be comforted and her first wild terror abated 
under the spell of the soothing influence. 

Her undaunted spirit had regained its ascendency 
over the first nervous shock. She was thus in a compara- 


148 


DIVORCED. 


lively calm state of mind when the door was quickly 
unlocked, and Neale Volaiid entered the room. 

Ilis face was flushed and his gait slightly unsteady, 
as he 02)ened the door. 

The room was so imperfectly lighted by the faint 
glow of expiring embers, that he paused for an instant 
in the elfort to familiarize objects somewhat indistinct. 

Paulina, noticing his hesitation, instantly advanced 
to meet him. His presence had so enkindled her indig- 
nation as to banish all remaining trepidation. 

She addressed him in tones of stinging contempt. 

‘^At last, sir,’’ she said, ^^you have come ! Long 
expected, and in this very room looked for by Miriam, 
day by day, hour by hour, month by month, year by 
year; while she, who fondly loved you and hoped for 
your coming, consumed away her precious life. At last 
the sum of your treachery was completed, the cup of her 
sorrows full and running over, when death came to re- 
lease her from the suffering your barbarity inflicted; 
and here, in this very room, her head leaning on my 
breast, her soul ascended to God who gave it — yet you , 
her murderer, having with willful malice ensnared her 
to her living death and left her here to perish, you, 
Neale Voland, now that she is no more, come forsooth 
to defile this place, sacred to her sufferings, with your 
hateful presence. Neale Voland, do not dare.” 

No thought of this bitter arraignment had lurked in 
the profligate’s mind when he entered this apartment, 
flushed with wine, to seek his bride, and lead her like 


THE CONSPIRATORS. 


149 


some fallen Cleopatra to grace his banquet. The re- 
vulsion was as terrible as if Miriam^s shrouded ghost 
stood before him, calling him to an account. 

God ! he exclaimed, sinking down upon the couch. 

With the up-springing bound of the agile young 
panther, the child Neale sprang forward. 

He, too, had expected this man during the short span 
of hi& infantile life, looked for him with every alterna- 
tion of hope, fear, suspense, blind rage, and finally un- 
mixed hate, that can possess the human heart; and thus 
to see him on that dear couch, and the idolized motlier, 
for whom he would have given his life blood to have 
brought him to her, now no more. 

His eyes flashed, as with one hand uplifted as if 
about to strike, and the other tossing back his golden 
curls as if he disdained to wear the childish ringlets, he 
cried out with a loud voice — 

^^Bad man, get off that bed on which my beautiful 
mamma died. Oh, get otf !” he screamed, ‘^you press 
her to death. I see her now. She lies there as on the 
day she died — so white and still, and you — you have 
killed her.'’^ 

The child^s execration fell like a blow, and the 
unhappy man was at the instant sobered and deathly 
pale. He sprang from the couch with a hunted look, 
and asked, with a voice quivering, Did poor Miriam 
indeed die /iere f ” 

'^Just there, said Paulina, very sorrowfully, ^^just 
there — she lay extended on that couch for five years. 


150 


DIVORCED. 


wiitcliing, waiting, hoping for you — and oh! monster! 
you never came. There was at last a merciful day, 
when hope died out, and she knew herself divorced, 
knew you as you are, not as she had fancied you. Then 
she left this precious child in my keeping, resigned her- 
self to God's will, and died on the very spot where an 
instant ago you were." 

The wretched man shuddered. At that moment the 
blinding scales seemed to fall from his eyes, and tlie 
darkness lifted, as one might hold their breath for an 
instant, wherein he saw things as one may see who 
holds the even balance of justice, wherewith to measure 
relative values. 

How like a huge mockery did the selfish, so-called 
pleasures of the past five years, the hollow applause of a 
cynical world, now seem, as compared with his infinite 
loss! Truly Miriam, then and there, was avenged; for 
now a great yearning possessed him once again, as in 
the early days of his faithless love, to hold, as his own, 
that trusting, loving heart. But no longer could aught 
be his but the voice of remorse, that goaded him with 
its solemn cry, ^Hoo late, too late!" 

He hid his blanched face within his hands, and 
trembled violently. Then with a strong effort, and 
casting a frightened glance at that forbidden spot, so 
sacred to these others, forbidden to him, he gazed upon 
his beautiful child wistfully, as he said in a mournful 
tone : 

And this dear boy is my child." 


THE CONSPIRATORS. 


151 


no/^ impetuously exclaimed his son; ''I am 
my mamma’s child, not yours at all. I am all hers” — 
and he stepped back with a cold, proud look, in which 
Neale saw himself mirrored. 

Oh, how he yearned to embrace him; for the long 
stifled voice of nature, covered over as it had been, and 
choked out by a fungus growth of worldliness, now 
would rise up and assert itself. 

‘^This is, indeed, most terrible,” groaned the man, 
immovable, and still gazing on those lineaments in 
which he saw the perfect blending of Miriam with 
himself. 

And will you never go?” called out the little auto- 
crat, with an imperious gesture of dismissal. 

^^If you wanted to come at all, why did you stay 
away until she died? My precious mamma loved you 
once, and wanted you, and cried for you to come, and, 
bad man, you would not come. Now she is dead, and 
my dear, new mamma says she does not need you or 
ever want you any more. No one loves you now. My 
pretty new mamma hates you, and I — oh! I — hate — 
hate — hate you . ” 

The chalice of his bitterness was full and running 
over. Neale Voland heard no more, but Pushing from 
that place of malediction as one accursed, he almost up- 
set his friend Caleb Sly as he passed, who stood at the 
door. 

Was he ever again to meet one whom he claimed as 
bride? Or the wronged child who so spurned him with 


152 


DIVORCED. 


merciless disdain? Even as lie had been pitiless in his 
infamous conduct to the boy^s broken-hearted mother. 

As Neale Voland fled from a spot whose very walls 
cried aloud against him. Sly entered at the still open 
door, and with smirking grimace and cringing bow stood 
before Paulina. 

The overwrought feelings of the child during his 
bitter denunciation of a father who had been so unjust, 
had, by a reaction usual in childhood, found a speedy 
relief in tears, and he now buried his face in the folds 
of Paulina’s dress, and wept. How beautiful slie was! 
how stately in her immobility! Her deep and brilliant 
eyes were still riveted where Neale Voland had disap- 
peared, and the slightest tinge of color lent a transpar- 
ent delicacy to the usual palor of her countenance. 
Until the man spoke she scarcely noted his presence, for 
had she not just dismissed with contempt, one to whom, 
a few short weeks ago, she had given her affection and 
plighted the fealty of a life. ' Nor had she, without a 
sore struggle of conflicting emotions, torn out from lier 
heart and trampled upon an image once so dear to her. 
But she had now to collect the utmost forces of her will 
to meet this new danger, for Caleb Sly was a more for- 
midable man to encounter as an enemy, than was Neale 
Voland. Cool, subtle, wary, sensual, intriguing and 
remorseless, who could hope to escape from the jeop- 
ardy of snares laid by him? 

He had determined either to win Paulina, or, failing 
to do so, to relegate her to a worse than living grave. 


THE CONSPIRATORS. 


153 


Voland was an accomplished, selfish voluptuary, who 
sinned against others because he thought solely of him- 
self. He would naturally have chosen a life of luxury, 
for the pursuit of pleasure was the law that regulated 
his actions. 

We have seen that he was, to a certain degree, capa- 
ble of repentance, and not quite insensible to the pain 
he inflicted, although he never had the moral strength 
to overcome his sensuous tastes. His vices are repeated 
among worldlings until the story has been thrice told. 
But Caleb Sly was low-born, low-bred and low-minded, 
while the evil ends he had in view were an outcropping 
of his own perverted nature. 

He was innately cruel, for it gave him positive pleas- 
ure to behold the sufferings of others. He felt that he 
owed the world a grudge, because he was born so ob- 
scure, poor and ungainly, so that from the start he had 
fought a hard fight with circumstances. 

Paulina was a person who possessed the traits, nat- 
ural and acquired, which he had not, and he longed to 
.appropriate to himself so much grace and beauty. He 
would, in so doing, gain the needed social position ; nor 
did he intend to fail. He proposed to succeed, and he 
was not a man to let any weakness, any silly sentimen- 
tality foil his plan. 

The obsequious bow with which he greeted Paulina 
scarcely concealed the elation he experienced at the 
thought that he really held her in his power, nor was 


154 


DIVORCED. 


he in a mood to brook opposition, or to trouble himself 
by the use of honied phrases. 

He began at once to be piqued that he was, as it 
were, unnoticed, and when he spoke it was with a rude 
irony that at once aroused the high spirit of this proud 
woman. 

^^Can it he,” said he, ^Hhat one so wronged and 
beautiful, should place her wayward thoughts on the 
unworthy lover who has just left her, and give no heed 
to the devotion of a true heart, such as mine?” 

It was best, in his opinion, to tear away the mask at 
once and declare himself openly, for there was little 
time that stormy night for other wooing than some 
bandit^s bride might hope for. 

Did Phidias ever dream of eikor more statuesque, 
than this frigid image of an insulted woman, as, with a 
freezing disdain, she glanced at the sordid creature 
before her? Her lips parted as if to speak, then closed 
without a word of reply, but the cold look of contempt, 
the haughty poise of her noble head gave expression to 
her thoughts. 

Wlien Sly uttered those insolent words, Nora rose 
from her knees and approached her mistress as if 
to defend her, while the dear child, divining with 
ready intuition that some harm threatened her whom 
he loved, clasped her hand with an air of protection and 
frowned upon Sly. 

‘^No need of scenes,” said the wretch, throwing olf 
all disguise, ‘^^and no time for fine phrases either, for I 


THE CONSPIRATORS. 


155 


am here to tell you, madam, that the fool whom you 
married, aud have but a moment since frightened away 
with some bugaboo about his dead Miriam, has come 
here for a settled purpose. To-morrow morning he will 
take you back with him as his bride. This, fair lady, 
is his bridal tour.” 

will never live with him,” said Paulina. ^*1 
would die first.” 

I thought as much,” answered the man, slightly 
bowing ; “in fact, 1 expected as much from your good 
taste and nice sense of propriety, after assisting at the 
death-bed of Miriam. I am told that this unfortunate 
Voman died in your arms.” 

“ Naughty man! ” said the child. 

“ Silence! you little viper,” he hissed. “I am not 
a fool to be bearded by a child, as is your father.” 

“ You have, happily,” continued he, addressing 
Paulina, “a pleasing alternative, for you can elect to 
marry me so soon as I get your divorce, and that is an 
easy matter to arrange.” 

“I would,” said Paulina, with slow percision, 
“sooner die ten thousand deaths than be wedded to 
you.” 

“You are not complimentary, madam,” snarled Sly, 
“but such want of good taste shows, as we have feared, 
an impaired mind. Perhaps it is kindest to let you know 
that I am here with your husband, as is also another 
person, in the role of a physician, in order to meet all 


156 


DIVORCED. 


legal requirements, and place you as an incurable luna- 
tic in an insane asylum.” 

^^Misther,” screamed Nora, falling on her knees 
before him, with hands uplifted to Heaven, ‘^Have me 
darlint wid the b’y, an^ it^s meself as is looney, not her 
at all, at all. Indade an^ indade,” she added, implor- 
ingly, ^^it’s the dacent madman Nora wud make, an’ a 
nate job of it too, plaze ye, misther.” 

Sly laughed derisively. 

‘^You shall go too, old Bedlam,” said he, ^'and 
madam shall be shut up with you, but as for this pert 
child, the court has made me his guardian, and Mrs. 
Brown can keep him here.” 

deevil, an’ a son of a deevil;” cried Nora, ^‘ye 
wull burn fur it! ” 

Sly raised his arm in a livid rage to fell the poor, 
distracted creature to the floor, but Paulina, with quick 
movement, turned aside the blow. 

Again Sly laughed outright. 

^^Poor Nora,” said Paulina tenderly, stooping to 
help her to rise; ^^it is sheer folly thus to rouse the 
tiger in his den.” But she said no word to Sly. 

And now Sly’s mood changed, and he spoke plead- 
ingly. 

Reflect, dearest creature,” he said, I was born 
for distinction, we both have wealth, the world is bright 
and we would have a brilliant career, with troops of 
friends, and in the enjoyment of every luxury. All this 
if you but consent to marry me; but if you will obstin- 


THE COJ^SPIRATORS. 


157 


ately refuse my solicitations ; again reflect — have you 
thought of your awful doom ? Imprisoned for life, shut 
out from all hope, environed by madmen, whose cries of 
despair, whose ringing fiendish laughter fills the air by 
day and night; around you will be drivelling idiots and 
brutal attendants, who will bend your will to their tyr- 
anny, and after a time, your strength will give way, 
your intellect totter to its decline, until finally the light 
of reason will be extinguished in this outer dark- 
ness. How many years do you suppose you can en- 
dure such horrors and not become in reality a raving 
maniac. ” 

Paulina shivered, but she answered with firmness. 
Do you seek, base wretch, to kill mein advance? or do 
you hope by repeating these awful threats, to bend me to 
your wicked will? But you forget, that one god-like boon 
remains to me, which neither you, nor yours, nor all the 
demons of hell can deprive me of, so long as I remain true 
to the right. And this boon is so priceless, that all the 
treasures of worlds heaped on worlds cannot purchase it 
for such as you. It is the peace, the joy of a pure unsul- 
lied conscience.^'’ 

“ You and the old hag are a pair of miserable idiots, 
and you may rot together in a mad-house for all I care,^^ 
exclaimed Sly in an uncontrollable rage, as he stalked out 
of the room, slamming the door after him and stamping 
along fhe hall, then ascending the stairs, on his way 
back to the misePs room. Foiled in all but my ven- 
geance,^^ he hissed, but that shall be ample. 


158 


DIVORCED. 


Glory be to all the saints,” cried Nora, ^'the 
deeviFs skitted.” 

He will return dearest Nora,” said Paulina, tremb- 
ling, after the nighPs orgy is over — and then — ” 
Whereupon all three cried bitterly, the child in a 
passion of sobs, with his arms round Paulina^s neck. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE DEVIL^S OWN. 

T he three men were once more grouped around the 
old deal table. Hermann had hastily re-entered 
just in advance of Voland, and playing his part as valet, 
put aside in the deep recesses of the high windows the 
remnants of the feast, remarking, ^MVe shall need a 
breakfast here.^^ He then removed the cloth, and re- 
placing the bottles and glasses on the table, resumed his 
seat. 

As Neale Voland stumbled in, he sank mechanically 
into his chair, and leaning forward with bowed head on 
his folded arms, shed burning tears, not of repentance 
from out the fountains of a contrite heart, revivifying as 
are the cool waters of the desert, and washing away the 
many stains that disfigure the weary pilgrim, but tears 
of remorse, which, like the mirage of refreshing waters 
amid sandy wastes, gives but a mocking semblance of 
relief, leaving the spirit more parched and desolate than 
before. His evident distress delighted the cynical 
valet, who hated a master from whom he had endured 
many insults, and also because he was vexed to have 
been under him in a subordinate position. After a time. 
Sly returned with a surly, sullen air, and Voland upon 
159 


160 


DIVORCED. 


his entrance, raised his head and assumed his usual 
nonchalant, somewhat haughty manner. 

Come, Sly, he seated, he said. “ This is a liideous 
night, and we must drive away the blues and make 
merry. I venture to say that the hazard of cards, and 
punch — punch brewed steaming hot — will, with some 
good cigars, soon bring us around all right. 

So saying he went to the fire, which was now a mass 
of glowing coals, and stooping over, soon brought back 
the steaming boiling liquid. 

The pungent aroma filled the room, and under the 
effects of the titillating compotation, as they tippled 
together, puffing away at fragrant Havanas, a bland and 
soothing influence stole over them. 

Quantam stiff, doctor, said Voland, nodding to 
the valet, as he held his cigar delicately between his 
fingers, for it seemed to divert him immensely to 
designate his quondam servant by that title, which he 
flung at him on all occasions in a sarcastic way that he 
knew must exasperate the fellow. 

I am not of your opinion, replied Hermann, dryly; 
‘‘where are the cards? 

“Who cares to play dummy?” snarled Sly. “We 
ought to have brought your junior along for a fourth,”, 
remarked Neale Voland, “for where else could one 
find a fellow fit to hold our hands, outside of the honor- 
able firm of Sly and Pry?” 

“Sneer as you will,” jeered Sly, “ we never stop at 


THE devil's OWH. 


161 


obstacles. Were the devil himself to take a hand with 
us we would manage to rope him in.^^ 

^^Ha! ha!^^ sneered Hermann, ^Hhat’s the sort of 
talk I like. Here^s a health to his Infernal Majesty. 
Oh, Satan, most diabolic, come forth and shuffle this 
deal ” 

The goblets were filled to the brim, duly rattled 
against each other, and as the bumper was tossed off, 
each man cried out as if seized with some sudden 
frenzy: 

Come, Satan, come forth, and shuffle the deal!” 

Then a hollow, muffled voice, yet of distinct articu- 
lation, responded, ‘^Hcome!” 

Each man started to his feet, amazed, but at the 
instant, as they regarded each other, from a remote cor- 
ner of the room, perchance from out some sliding panel, 
yet so noiselessly that no one noticed from whence he 
came, there issued forth a dapper little man of smart 
appearance. He had white hair, heavy, cut close gray- 
ish beard, shaggy eyebrows and a somewhat stooping 
form. He wore a black patch on one cheek as if to 
hide some ugly scar, and his keen eyes twinkled rest- 
lessly over a very red and swollen nose. He seemed to 
be a hilarious gentleman, very affable and courteous. 
As he approached the table, bowing to each in turn, 
liolding a chapeau-bras under his arm, the startled men 
covered their confusion by a chorus of scoffing laughter, 
affecting to be vastly amused, and resuming their seats. 

'^Pray be seated, sir, and make a fourth,” said 
11 


162 


DIVORCED. 


Voland, assuming his role of host. If you are indeed 
his Satanic Majesty, we are glad to see you and most 
happy to find the devil of the nineteenth century such a 
charming old gentleman.'’’ 

‘MVe are pleased. Sir Satan,” said Sly, to make 
your personal acquaintance. Verily, you come at an 
oi^portune time — ” 

And I,” said Hermann, ^^have had the honor to 
know you well by reputation these many years; indeed, 
if I mistake not, we have had some dealings with each 
otlier, and I am especially gratified to see you mate- 
rialize.” 

The queer little old man laughed outright, laughed 
derisively both loud and long, but there was a me- 
tallic ring in his voice, and when at last he ceased, 
answering echoes filled the manse, and the fierce 
blast without took up the refrain, rattled the win- 
dows, shook the doors, and filled every cranny with 
jeering cries — and the three comrades, merry men all, 
shivered with an involuntary chilliness in spite of their 
exceeding festivity, as their fourth seized the cards 
unbidden, and shuffled them well. He did this with 
the quick and practiced skill of an adept. 

We shall play rouge et noir, gentlemen,” said he, 
and if there is no objection, I will be banker. I like 
the game well. It is full of opportunities, and where a 
man has a suitable stake, it is really interesting.” 

Agreed,” said Voland, what shall the limit be — 
how much ? ” 


THE DEVIL^S OWH. 


163 


‘‘Money/’ answered the fourth, “is all well enough 
for the vulgar uses of the world. It has time and again 
been a good friend to me, and served me well, but 
to-night, gentlemen, with such choice company, we fly 
higher game.” 

Sly gave him a piercing glance, full of malevolent 
defiance. 

“Let us play to-night,” said he, “for what I crave, 
as of most worth — mastery.” The stranger answered 
carelessly: “ I am content, if the prize be defined.” 

“ I define it,” exclaimed Hermann. “ Let us stake 
our lives. A man can do no more than that.” 

“ Too indefinite by half,” objected the new-comer. 
“ Shall it be body or soul ?” 

“ Both,” shouted the three men simultaneously, as 
if driven by some mysterious force they could not resist. 

“ Very good,” smilingly assented the stranger, “ with 
one express stipulation; he who wins has absolute con- 
trol.” 

“ We consent,” re-affirmed the three. 

“ Please make your choice then,” said the stranger. 

Thereupon they all, as if by one impulse, staked 
their bodies and their souls on noir. 

The banker then took the cards, shuffled them well, 
and the play began. Passing them to Voland to cut — 
he having returned them — the deal commenced. So 
engrossed were they, that no sound broke the stillness, 
save the rapid breathing of the three men as the banker 
slowly and carefully dealt each card. Ere he turned 


164 


DIVORCED. 


the last, he paused, then in a ringing voice he cried. 
Rouge wins, noir loses,” and wild and fiendish laughter 
now echoed and re-echoed through every nook and 
crevice of the old manse. The maddened men with 
closed fists struck the table heavily, and the crash of 
broken glass sounded like the chattering of dead men^s 
teeth. The tempest rose to a more dreadful fury, the dis- 
lodged bricks came rattling down the wide open-mouthed 
' chimneys, the broken stone wall was laid low, the swing 
beam over the old well was snapped asunder, dropping 
its oaken bucket into the depths beneath, whereat the 
angry waters splashed and gurgled, and the giant Norway 
spruce that so long had stood sentinel at the very 
door was hurled from its strong supports and uprooted, 
and the huge toppling rocks not far distant were rent 
from their base, and fell crashing down the pinnacled 
crags. 

But amid the wild din and uproar of the elements, 
and as if a part of the conflict, arose to confront high 
heaven, the blasphemous execrations of these wicked 
men. 

‘"We shall meet again, gentlemen,” said the weird 
little old man solemnly, and in mandatory tones, ad- 
dressing each in turn. 

“ In twenty-four hours, Caleb Sly, I shall expect you. 
Do not fail me.” 

“ And you, sir,” pointing a bony finger at Hermann, 
“will be called for in ten days.” 

“But as to you. Squire Voland, ere another month 


THE DEVIL^S OWK. 


165 


is ended you will behold your wronged Miriam as one 
afar off, but she will know you not.” 

At these successive summons, the men became dead- 
ly pale, their knees knocked together, and they turned 
bewildered glances one upon the other, while the strange 
and awful visitor quickly disappeared; only Sly, wlio 
first recovered himself, thought he saw a moving panel 
in a far corner of the room, glide into i^lace, nor did he 
fail to mark the spot. 

Succeeding the shock of the storm swirl, an appalling 
silence fell over the scene. 

For the dread summons given to each man in his 
turn, had dismayed them, for reasons best known to 
themselves. 

But life-long habits of incredulous thought soon re- 
asserted their sway over the highly wrought, almost 
phrenetic state, into which they had been temporai-ily 
plunged. 

Neale Voland speedily laughed at the adventure, as 
an hallucination produced by the strength of the liquor 
he had concocted. After to-night,” he remai-ked, “ we 
will not again brew our punch so strong, for, by heaven, 
I fancy we have all of us had a touch of deliriinn tre- 
mens ” 

I am not quite sure,” said Sly, but I have a notion 
that we have all made egregious asses of ourselves. It 
occurs to me that I have seen before, the restless, twink- 
ling eyes of that wretch, and if I can but verify my sus- 
picions, it were better for that man had he never been 


IGG 


DIVORCED, 


born, than for him to be able to boast having fooled 
Caleb Sly/’ 

^^And as for me/^ said Hermann, vindictively, ‘^a 
man might as safely play with lightning as to deceive 
me; I am a two-edged sword, that can cut both ways/’ 

Both his associates looked at the fellow in amaze- 
ment. 

Now confess, doctor,” said Sly, that yon have a 
history, and one mixed np with certain diabolic ven- 
tures.” 

‘'Egad! I dare say,” interlocuted Voland. 

“ You flatter me, gentlemen,” disclaimed the fellow, 
“ I have never, ’pon honor, been engaged in any under- 
taking more to my taste than the present enterprise.” 

“Egad!” again ejaculated Voland, shrugging his 
shoulders. “We ought to make hay while the sun 
shines, doctor, for if our devil is a true prophet, 
we have all of us but short shift to make” — and he 
trembled as if some painful image passed before him. 

Hermann’s face became strangely distorted as he 
answered with an oath, “ Let them do their worst, I had 
as soon die as live, any day.” 

Again both of his confederates regarded him atten- 
tively. 

“Who are you, anyhow?” blurted out Sly, putting 
on a rough manner ; you might as well make a clean 
breast of it. Our ventures are embarked in one bot- 
tom.” 

The more gentlemanly Voland winced, which. Her- 


THi: devil’s OWX. 


1G7 


mami noticing, he replied with a tort of swaggering 
contempt : 

Don’t be too sure of that, Caleb Sly. 1 can hold 
the key of more mysteries on my little finger than you 
two have ever dreamed of.” 

My studies have for years brought me face to face 
with the occult sciences. I have visited Egypt, the 
cradle of Hermetic philosophy, and made myself master 
of her secret lore ; I have investigated the unexplored 
subtleties of the Arabian school and listened to their 
sages expatiate on the wonders of their talismans, and 
the hidden virtues of the philosopher’s stone. 

My affiliations with the net-work of secret societies, 
whose ramifications like the octopus seize everything 
and are spread everywhere, will give me an immense 
power when the time comes for action, and that predes- 
tined time is close at hand. Then shall all men, as in 
the early days, speak one tongue and be bound to 
work towards one end. For is not unity the grand 
climax ? ” 

^‘^And after we shall have changed and subverted all 
law — social, moral, political — we will grasp a hitherto 
unknown mastery over those so-called natural laws that 
at present hold things in tame and narrow grooves. 
We shall then aspire to hurl into an abyss of confusion, 
a universe so illy adjusted by its blundering Creator 
and out of the commingled elements build up anew. 

Already I have pierced the darkness, and have 
gained the power to destroy mankind in a thousand 


168 


DIVORCED. 


ways when I choose to do so. Not vulgar methods, but 
such as science delights to handle. For instance, you 
yield a shadow. Did it ever occur to you that within 
that shadow lurks your double, and upon that fleeting 
shade I can so enfix my spells, that you will pine away 
and die, not knowing wherein you are hurt? Yet this 
is but a slight affair, for I have in an awful, never-to-be- 
forgotten hour, confronted the glory of that Shechinah 
that dwells in fire, whose lambent purity can only be 
made visible to initiated eyes. I am familiar with the 
schemes of the astrologer and can make out for you an 
exact horoscope of the future. 

can condense the moon^s rays by a process of 
alchemy, and throwing the magic charm over those who 
lie in deep slumber, make them raving maniacs; or 
through the sun’s rays, by the action of solar heat, pen- 
etrate into that hidden sympathy between metallic sub- 
stances and the heavenly bodies. Heat and motion are 
the primal laws. 

But above all and beyond all,” and here his ex- 
pression became simply diabolic, I can, by my skill 
and knowledge, prepare subtle chemical compounds of 
a force hitherto unknown or even imagined. Out of 
these explosive forces we can throw a world in ruins. 
Then there are poisons known only through such crucial 
experiments as I have made, unknown among the ordi- 
nary pharmaceutical preparations, but obtained by con- 
ducting processes of distillation of such destructive 
rapidity that if they but come in contact with the 


THE devil’s OWH. 


169 


human body under certain conditions, dissolution is im- 
mediate. 

Think, for instance, of the concentrated virus of 
the deadly fang of the coluber, or the opoblepa, or the 
fixed magnetism of the eye of the basilisk! Out of the 
arcanum of nature we have seized deadly weapons. 
Nor has science alone taught us to destroy, but likewise 
how to preserve human life. 

‘‘I have discovered an elixir, that is no nostrum, 
that will at no distant day give me fabulous wealth. 

It is a wine so exhilarating that he who partakes 
of it will have new life infused. The ingredients coun- 
teract decay. Why should we grow old? Why, in fact, 
should man ever die? Simply because, out of his sheer 
stupidity, he does not know how to supply waste, how 
to build up. His joints stiffen, his hair bleaches, his 
skin wrinkles, because of the accumulations of effete 
matter, which his ignorance does not enable him to re- 
move from the system. I have found out the causes of 
waste, which are in great part chemical; and, knov/ing 
the cause, can apply the needed remedies. Thus we 
may, after a few generations of steady progress in the 
right direction, learn to carry out the primal law of our 
being and live forever. Learned societies in Europe are 
now seriously discussing this very problem, but they are 
all on the wrong track. I alone have gained a knowl- 
edge of the counteracting and revivifying forces. As to 
the arts of the magicians, of conjurations, of the power 


170 


DIVORCED. 


to wield odic and physic influences, of mesmeric and 
magnetic attraction, they are mine.^^ 

Hermann paused, having fairly exhausted himself in 
the delivery of this labored harangue, which he had pro- 
nounced in a pompous manner, at times with closed 
eyes, as if communing with himself. 

^^Can you call that devil back?^^ asked Sly. 

Undoubtedly,” replied the student, ^^did he not 
come when I invoked him? Would you see him again?” 

By no means,” replied Voland, hastily. In view 
of our compact, and of his absolute ownership of our 
bodies and souls — it is enough.” 

Shall I give you some manifestation of my power?” 
asked Hermann. 

^^In what way?” inquired Sly. 

‘MVould you see the face of your dead mother?” 
suggested Hermann. 

‘^^Now, I know you lie,” retorted Sly. ^^She still 
lives — ” 

^^Rash man,” replied Hermann, not heeding the 
insult, be not too sure of that. I have beheld her 
sliadow projected into the valley of death, where at this 
moment I can see her at the boundary line.” 

Sly involuntarily started, then, recovering himself, 
said, You would make a splendid showman, doctor.” 

'‘ Shall I give you an exhibition of my skill in lan- 
guages?” asked the student. "lean converse readily, 
not only in the various languages of Modern Europe, 
such as French, German, Spanish, Italian, but I can 


THE DEVIL^S OWH. 


171 


give you communications from the spirit world, in Nor- 
wegian, Persian, Sanscrit, in the dead tongues, and I 
hold at least seventeen different languages at my com- 
mand.” 

^‘God be praised you are not a woman,” laughed 
Voland. 

You have a very stupid familiar not to have 
taught you more than that,” sneered Sly. While the 
demon was about it, he should have instructed such 
an apt scholar in at least the seventy tongues of Car- 
dinal Mezzofanti.” 

Do you really know these languages?” asked Vo- 
land. 

‘‘I know them fluently,” responded Hermann, ^^as 
infused by the spirits.” 

^"That means, I suppose,” replied Voland, ^Hhat 
the spirits tell you, and you repeat, like a paroquet.” 

Hermann flushed, but he replied, ^^Know, Neale 
Voland, that my familiar can discern the secrets of your 
life, past, present and future ; and I have but to ask 
him, and he will make them known to me.” 

‘‘ Ha! ha! ” jeered Sly. These tricky spirits make 
of your mind a sieve, through which they pour their 
nonsense ; it infiltrates through, and leaves only a sed- 
iment — spirit dregs — probably.” 

Gentlemen,” said Hermann, very composedly, ^^it 
is easy to sneer. This is the weapon of ignorance from 
the beginning. But facts cannot lie. Here is an old 
deal table — a miser's table — ha! ha! and therefore of 


172 


DIVORCED. 


rude construction. You know that I did not bring it 
here. Shall I make it rise to the ceiling, and hang like 
Mahomet’s coffin, suspended there.” 

^'God forbid !” cried Voland. ^^Keep it light here 
— we need it, for this night’s revelry must go on.” 

Let us brew more punch, fill and refill our goblets, 
quaff the delicious nectar, and be satisfied with the 
spiritual essence we imbibe.” 

Voland is quite right,” said Sly. ^^We have had 
spiritual manifestations enough for one night. I dare 
say the doctor believes in theosophy, astral shapes and 
metempsychosis.” 

''Of course I do,” gravely responded that learned 
person. " I have a distinct recollection of several exist- 
ences — once I was a warrior, then I was an eagle.” 

"And have you no recollection,” politely interrupted 
Voland, "of that time when you were such a famous 
jackass?” 

Hermann would have made an angry reply but Sly 
interfered. "Come, come,” he said, "there is work 
enough ahead in the morning. A bumper to the fair 
lunatic below.” 

Voland’s face flushed crimson. 

" I say. Sly,” said he, trembling, " it’s too devilish. 
I think I’ll let her off.” 

"You’ll do no such thing, you drivelling idiot,” 
cried Sly, vehemently. "We’ve gone too far for that 
nonsense.” 

" And 1,” said Hermann, " care not what happens. 


THE DEVIL^S OWN. 


173 


having pocketed my thousand dollars. It will be rich 
to see the capers of that old Irishwoman. She is an 
original. ” And then he recounted with inimitable 
drollery the whole story of the umbrella, and how he 
had left a new silk one to replace the one stolen; and 
Sly laughed heartily. 

But Voland inquired with indignation, How did 
you happen to know all this, doctor ? 

The man answered without a blush — 

Readily. I listened at the half open door.^^ 

It is needless to add that Voland registered, then and 
there, a mental oath to get rid of the rascal when this 
sad work was at an end. 

And now they drank heavily, and what with the 
weariness incident to all the fatigue of travel and the 
excitements of the night, added to the late hour of three 
in the morning, they grew very drowsy as they sat 
round that ancient board. 

Suppose,'^ said Hermann, with a drawling utter- 
ance, ^Mve put our will-power into this rickety thing, 
and make it uphold us while we sleep/'’ So they each 
stretched forth a hand lazily to the other, which was no 
sooner done than a deep sleep overtook them, and they 
fell heavily forward on to the rough surface of the plank. 

The sin-freighted board, charged with the magnet- 
ism thus infused into it, groaned and quivered under 
their weight, and mixed itself up like a malign thing, 
with many hideous spectral shapes of their nightmare 
dream. 


174 


DIVOBCED. 


Voland beheld it as a monstrous bat with wide 
spreading wings, upon which he sailed, cleaving the air, 
until at last he was aware of a shadowy image of 
Miriam, robed in white apparel, impassible, glorious, 
but ever looking upward, taking no heed of him. He 
cried aloud, he implored, entreated, filled the air with 
protestations of fondest love, but she heeded him not, 
but ever with upturned gaze was absorbed by some rap- 
turous vision he could not see — when, oh despair, he 
felt himself to be sinking, borne upon the downward 
motion of the bat’s huge wings — with one last effort he 
cried to her — ^^wife, wife,” — at that sacred name, 
registered by their vows in heaven, whither she was 
borne, she paused and glancing downward sorrowfully, 
sighed — ^^that which God had joined, man did put 
asunder.” He knew his doom, for ever after he was 
falling, falling. 

Nor did the old deal table fail to torment Sly. It 
burned into his parched soul, taking on the shape of 
one big, glaring, cyclopean eye, an all-seeing eye, that 
. searched every hidden corner of his pestiferous soul, 
bringing forth into its consuming light the concealed 
malice, the damnable purposes, the inexorable cruel- 
ties, the blasphemous desecrations of which he had been 
guilty; ever burning, with fierce and fiercer heat, until 
through the marrow of his bones, through every mus- 
cle, fibre and nerve, he was one shriveled mass of 
sheeted, all consuming, but never consumed fire — all 
aflame but yet all alive. 


THE DEVIL^S OWN. 


175 


And beside him, as he writhed, there sprang into 
tormenting power over Hermann, the mesmeric influence 
he had evoked. 

It crept upon him, as an insatiable vampire asking 
sustenance; his lifers blood only whetted its appetite for 
more. How deathly cold, and faint, and chill, how 
freezing, how icy, how congealed, stiff frozen, it was; 
but oh, the stinging, burning of that piercing cold, ice 
piled upon thick ribbed ice, and yet always to freeze 
and never to die. 

As thus they slumbered, they moaned and groaned, 
they cursed and wrestled with invisible foes, but could 
never lift the dark mantle of overpowering sleep until 
the sun had climbed high in the heavens that wintry 
morning. 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE ESCAPE, 


ALEB SLY left Paulina, Nora, and the child in 



tears; and as he strode swiftly onward to' rejoin 
his associates, and assist in the nighPs orgies, he passed 
by still another one whom he had made inexpressibly 
wretched, and that other one was the abject and miser- 
able Mrs. Brown, for whom no created thing felt one 
ray of real sympathy. 

Nora, to be sure, was at first sorry for her, but the 
obstinate silence of the woman repelled all advances, 
and Nora^s commiseration had subsided into mere curi- 
osity. 

Paulina had been borne too swiftly in the surging 
torrent of events to pause to notice her with any inter- 
est, and the child had, with that unreasoning impetu- 
osity common to children, contracted the most violent 
antipathy toward her. 

There was but one being in the wide, wide world to 
whom she turned with a wistful, hungry craving, and 
she ever yearned for some slight mark of affection from 
him. One loving word on his part would have lifted 
her desolate soul from the darkness in which it was 
plunged, into as much sunlight as her blighted life 


176 


THE ESCAPE. 


177 


could have required. But that one affectionate look or 
word never was bestowed on her. Caleb Sly, the mean 
scoundrel, never deigned to grant that recognition, and 
when he paused for an instant as he passed her, it was 
with a movement as if he were about to crush a 
writhing worm. 

-After he hacf gone, the three prisoners wept within 
the dismal room during the dreary watches of that 
dreadful night; but she, the forlorn one, who kept 
guard, crouched outside the door, had no tears to shed, 
for a blank despair closed around her benumbed senses. 
Nor was there bird or flower, mouse, spider, cat or dog 
that gave her welcome, no growing, no living thing had 
need of her. 

Who that has passed amid the hurrying crowds of 
cities, but has met her prototype? Old, blear-eyed, 
wrinkled, thinly clad, stumbling, feeble, sordid and 
utterly repulsive. Like some foul scavenger-bird, 
eking out a palsied existence upon filthy garbage. Who 
pauses, who cares to know what agonizing throbs may 
rend that heart, placed in a casket of so little worth? 
Ah, who among us is innocent, who is guiltless of 
want of pity toward these, children of our common 
Father? Who stops of all the passing throng to help to 
lift the heavy burthen, if but by one glance of mercy, 
or one gentle word spoken in kindly tones? 

When that awful shock of the tempest seemed to 
shake the house to its very foundations, she alone uttered 
no cry of terror. All was alike to her, “come weal 


178 


DIVORCED. 


come woe/^ for hope had died within her breast; that 
bosom that had nursed into life a viper, whose deadly 
fangs now paralyzed her being. 

There she sat upon the floor, just where Hermann's 
heavy tread had extorted from even her, a cry of pain. 
He had stepped upon an outstretched, listless hand, and 
it was now black and swollen from the hurt. Yet she 
had given no further heed to it, although bewildered 
with the throbbing pain, as she leaned forward, sway- 
ing herself to and fro, half dazed. 

The hours passed on, and it was now nearly three in 
the morning, just as the revelers above sank into a pro- 
found slumber, when the flgure of the same little old 
man, who had made so mysterious an ingress and egress 
in the miser^s chamber, quickly bent over her. 

She experienced a sickening faintness, and when she 
would have cried out and given an alarm, she felt too 
confused to do so. Then she seemed to be falling from 
a great height, as if ofl a precipice, and then she knew 
nothing more. 

A minute later the key turned, the door was slowly 
poned, and the quaint flgure appeared before the aston- 
ished group within. 

NoiVs half uttered cry was at once repressed, as he 
said to them hurriedly: 

“ I am your friend. Make not the slightest outcry 
or we are lost. I have risked my life, Paulina, to save 
yours. The old woman at the door is chloroformed, 
but presently she will revive. The wretches above have 


THE ESCAPE. 


179 


just fallen into the first deep sleep of heavy drink. 
But the wicked Sly is ever on his guard, and I fancy he 
sleeps with one eye open. Get your warmest wraps, for 
it is a terrible night. Now come quickly, or we are for- 
ever lost.” 

Paulina seemed to have grown old during the horrors 
of the past hours. She had, in the long watches of that 
night, measured in imagination the awful fate that ap- 
peared inevitable. How she had ever survived it all, the 
terror, the danger, the apparent hopelessness of her sit- 
uation, God alone knows. 

At first, after Sly had announced her terrible doom 
and left them, she fell to the floor as one in a dead 
swoon; the masses of her unclasped hair had fallen around 
her, and her fixed and rigid expression gave her in reality 
the look of one demented and crazed with sorrow. 

For a long time Nora had knelt beside her, ever pray- 
ing, praying, and the boy had sobbed himself to sleep. 
But after a time Paulina gained strength to rise. She 
carried the sleeping child tenderly in her arms, and laid 
him on Miriam^s couch, and there, with the strange ob- 
liviousness of childhood, he rested peacefully. Perchance 
Miriam's spirit soothed him, for he smiled as one in 
pleasant dreams. 

Paulina was still watching him when the stranger 
entered, and Nora sat now, with still and folded hands 
clasping her beads. 

The child was quietly aroused, and wrapped in shawls; 
Paulina got her fur cloak and Nora her warmest mantle. 


180 


DIVORCED. 


It was all the work of a moment, and they accompanied 
their guide in silence. 

At three in the morning of early December it is 
perfectly dark, but the violence of the tempest had 
abated and given way to litfnl gusts of intensely bleak 
wind. As they softly opened the front door, carefully 
closing it, and stood out in the open air, it seemed for a 
moment difficult to breathe, so piercing was the cold. 

^MVe must make all haste and exert ourselves or we 
shall freeze,^^ whispered their friend. I have a buggy 
in waiting, and the feet of my horse are covered with 
felt — all is ready But at this moment, as if a new 
and unexpected thought occurred to him, he said: I 
am sorry, but I cannot take^ the nurse; the carriage is 
too small. The child we can arrange for, but there is 
absolutely no room for the old woman. 

Then,^^ said Paulina decidedly, we will go back. 
I will not leave Nora.^^ 

^^Alanna, pet,” said Nora, crying, ^^aiP shure, ye 
wild not be so looney — lave ye Nora affi flee.” 

But already Paulina had turned to re-enter the 
house, when the man caught her by the arm. 

This is sheer folly,” said he. "" Hasten on. I have 
thought of a new plan. We will take the team brought 
by Voland and leave ours. There's more risk in it, but if 
they sleep soundly it can be done.” So saying, he 
busied himself in making the change as quickly as 
possible. 

The horses were harnessed into the larger convey- 


THE ESCAPE. 


181 


ance. Nora held the bulls-eye lantern that the man 
had taken from Mrs. Brown, and after a time all was in 
readiness to start. Yet, hasten as they would, nearly 
half an hour had elapsed before the little party were all 
snugly placed and fairly off. 

Already, a faint glimmer of light streaked the 
eastern horizon, heralding the near-coming day. Yet, in 
the obscurity that still prevailed, they had to proceed 
with the greatest caution at first. The uj^rooted tree, 
and all the devastation wrought by the recent storm, 
whose force was scarcely spent, had to be avoided. 

But at last they were fairly in the open road, and 
their driver knew how to handle the reins, so on they 
sped. 

NoiVs exultation could not be quite repressed, for at 
the last turn of the road, as the old manse disappeared 
from view, she cried out: 

The Lord be praised an^ all His saints, an^ may 
thim deevils we lave, burn for it.^^ 

Not another word was spoken, and the horses were 
soon picking their way carefully down the icy, slippery 
mountain road, being wisely left to choose the path for 
themselves. But once safely in Sleepy Valley below, 
they made excellent time, for just as they reached the 
railroad station, the ten oYlock morning mail train 
came in. 

Throwing the reins hurriedly to a railroad employe 
standing near, the queer little old man, as he hustled 
his party on the cars, cried out, as the train was moving 


182 


DIVORCED. 


onward, The team belongs to Neale Voland,’’ and they 
were off. 

Yet having once placed them on the cars, and saved 
them from the snares laid for them, he disappeared from 
vie.v; nor did they see him again. 

However, Paulina knew the route, and as the even- 
ing of that day closed in, a hired hack, containing the 
tliree, entered the familiar avenue at Hazlehurst, and 
they were once more at home. 

But as the door opened, and Paulina once again 
stepped over the threshold of that secure haven, storm- 
tossed and almost shipwrecked as she had been, the re- 
action after the severe tension proved too great, and she 
fell forward in a swoon as one dead. Now all was con- 
fusion, and a doctor was sent for in greatest haste. We 
leave her in the kind and skillful hands of one wlio 
quickly responded to the summons, and return to the 
scenes still in progress at the old manse. * * * 

Half an hour after Mrs. Brown had been chloro- 
formed she began to recover her senses. But it v/as 
some little time after she became conscious as to her 
surroundings, before her power of volition returned. 

It required even then, the strong will power whicii 
she had, to overcome the nausea and the sense of slug- 
gishness that remained, so far as to rouse herself. 

But with the return of clearer thought, came tlie 
certainty that some plot had been carried out involving 
the escape of Paulina. 

She at once realized that Sly would be furious if such 


THE ESCAPE. 


183 


plan had succeeded, and that he would never cease to 
blame her as the sole cause of the failure of his wislies. 

While she did not know the scope of his schemes, 
yet she suspected that he intended to force Paulina to 
marry him. Although she had an extreme fear of dis- 
pleasing him, yet she had a keen eagerness that he 
might succeed, for she bore him a mixed love and fear, 
with a longing desire to earn from him some mark of 
approval. 

Stirred to make a great effort by the force of these 
conflicting emotions, she managed to rouse herself, to 
rise and look into the room where Paulina had been 
conflned. Not flnding her there, she rushed into the 
open air, just in time to catch a glimpse of the party as 
they disappeared from view. 

At this woful sight such a blank horror overcame 
her, for she knew that she had sinned past forgiveness in 
Sly^s eyes, that she sank upon the cold ground quite 
unable to move. 

Perhaps an hour later and just as the sun had faintly 
tipped the mountain top with struggling beams of light, 
the good-natured farmer who had been the day previous 
engaged to take Paulina, Nora, and the child, to the 
station in time for the noon train, arrived in his wagon, 
which was large enough for the trio and their luggage. 

He had ventured out with reluctance, and as the 
evidences of the recent tempest increased as he neared 
the place, he muttered to himself: 

This be a storm to make a man e^en a most afeard 


184 


DIVORCED. 


to leave hum, and if I hadn’t telled her I’d cum any- 
how, I’d a backed oul?.” 

At every step the wreck on the mountain top and 
especially around the house, came plainer into view. 

‘^Deu tell!” he cried out, ^‘that thar wall’s tum- 
bled and the shackly well beam’s clean broke, and the 
big tree, and — deu tell! what sort of a barn-yard fowl’s 
this?” 

So saying, he sprang quickly to the ground as he 
spied poor Mrs. Brown stretched out half-frozen and in- 
sensible. 

'^Wall, ril be blamed ! if faint that humbly Miss 
Brown ! In all my born days, I never see’d the likes of 
sich a rampageous night. T’aint likely she was blowed 
out. Pr’aps she was. Halloo, the hus!” He waited a 
moment, but no one answered. 

Wall, it be a pesky job, and thar’s a shay, too, in 
the old wood hus. But faint no time to dilly dally, or 
the old gal’ll die.” 

Then he looked in the house, and saw the confusion 
of things in the hall, and peering into the lower rooms, 
found them vacant. Just as he was about to go up- 
stairs, he heard a sound as of heavy and labored breath- 
ing, at which he retreated, much alarmed, and observing 
the fresh marks of wheels in the slushy yard, he ran 
back at full speed. 

^^Ifs skeersome hereabouts, no how,” said he, ^^but 
a man can’t leave a fellow specie to freeze outright, and 
if so be as how she’s not too hefty. I’ll make a bee line 


THE ESCAPE. 


185 


to hum with the woman, now I’m in for it.” And with 
a vigorous pull at the inanimate form of the miserable 
woman, this kind-hearted countryman lifted her up and 
placed her comfortably in his wagon, then with a cheery 
git” to his team, made off as he remarked, ^^purty 
lively.” 

The loud halloo of the farmer as he hailed the house, 
and the noise made by his heavy team as he rattled off, 
were the first noises that somewhat disturbed the deep 
slumber of Sly; whose quick ear was not entirely closed 
against sound, even while restling with the hideous in- 
cubus of his frightful dream. 

But he sank again, almost at once, into a troubled 
sleep, out of which he finally roused himself with effort. 
The obscured sun glinted through the high narrow win- 
dows, and peered into the room in a sickly way that was 
very depressing. 

Sly was naturally ill-tempered, and he was especially 
surly as he stretched out his stiffened limbs, benumbed 
with cold and cramped from the constrained position of 
the past five or six hours. 

The fire had died out on the hearth, and the cold 
without made itself felt in the chilled room. 

That lazy ohl hag,” muttered he, '^not a stick of 
wood on the hearth; may she and the brat freeze here 
together this winter. But she’ll make the gentleman’s 
son work. It’ll be good for him, and I’ll make her.” 

The thought pleased his fancy, and as he looked 
scornfully at the sleeping men, he asked himself: 


186 


DIVORCED. 


Why not seize Paulina, anyliow, make off with her 
and leave this pair of fools in the lurch? It is easy to 
invent a thousand lies to hide the truth. Meantime 
she would be mine, and that would be better vengeance 
than the plan of the insane asylum. 

He rose, moved noiselessly to the fireplace where 
some slight warmth lingered in the stone hearth. As he 
leaned forward, his eye caught the dull glimmer of a 
steel ring set in the stone. 

The entire scene of the night before hashed upon 
him. The wonderful appearance and disappearance of 
the supposed devil, and he instantly connected the two. 

I am a thrice sodden fool,^" he grumbled, not to 
have seen it before. This is the misePs chamber, and 
the mean hunks must have daily died a thousand deaths 
for fear of his treasures being found out. Of course the 
place is honey-combed, and — great God! there must be 
somewhere concealed his hidden treasures. Let me re- 
call: The wretch was never heard of, doubtless he was 
murdered, or he should have been made way with. And 
this,^^ as he knelt down to examine the stone^ ‘^is cer- 
tainly a trap door.’"’ 

Ah, ha I A new revelation strikes me. 

I have it all. That devil was Pry, who knows the 
house well, better than I do. I thought I knew the keen 
twinkle of those restless eyes, notwithstanding his clever 
disguise. I never saw another pair just so piercing/’ 

Sly’s face grew purple with rage at the recollection 
of how completely he had been tricked. 


THE ESCAPE. 


187 


was a bold game to play/^ he groaned, ^^and if 
I had him here now I^d choke him — thus,’"’ and his 
fingers closed so tightly on the steel ring as to leave an 
empurpled circlet. There was a perceptible movement 
of the flat stone. 

By heavens, that is a trap-door! I must return 
alone and examine it carefully. Now for the moving 
panel where Pry stepped out. I marked the place, 
and, besotted as I was, I ought to know it again.” 

He rose and felt his way carefully along the wain- 
scoting, moving his hands up and down, then sideways 
along the boards, until at last one panel yielded. 

Enough,” he said, ^^this is not the fitting time; 
Idl return; and now let me be the first to salute the fair 
lunatic this frosty morning. Women are changeable, 
and she may find me more to her taste than a mad- 
house, after a nighPs reflection.” 

So mumbling to himself, he slid along with muffled 
step, for now Voland moved uneasily, as if about to 
wake. The first thing that arrested his attention was 
the stream of cold air that entered as he opened the 
door of the room. 

Miserable old dolt! Gone out for wood, and left 
the door open such a day as this! She^s outlived her 
usefulness, ” he added spitefully, and now walking rap- 
idly along to Paulina’s door, which reaching, he boldly 
opened without stopping to knock, with the assured in- 
solence of a master. 

He commenced to say, Bad manners, I know, not 


188 


DIVORCED. 


to knock — ’’ when at one swift glance he realized the 
situation. The dreadful fact of their escape confronted 
him. He ran to the front door, which had been left 
ajar (he now understood why), and there were the 
marks in the frozen but wet ground, made by the wheels 
of several vehicles. 

He ran swiftly up-stairs, rudely shook Voland and 
then Hermann, exclaiming: 

Confound you, wake up! Hell and fury, rouse 
yourselves! Our game’s bagged,.” 

Thereupon Hermann started up with an angry glare, 
and Voland, rubbing his swollen eyes, complained of 
headache. 

Zounds!” roared Sly. ^^Ho time for nonsense 
now. Be up and doing.” 

They all three rushed to the outhouse, only to find 
their horses and carriage gone, and in its place a horse 
and buggy. Then they raved and cursed, maddened 
with the defeat of their conspiracy. 

But presently Sly said: 

We only exhaust ourselves in vain, lose our time, 
and accomplish nothing; and meanwhile we shall ail 
perish with cold.” 

Neale Voland, take this buggy. The woman is 
your wife. You have the first and best right to chase 
the fugitives from justice. She has eloped with Pry.” 

^^It is not possible!” exclaimed Voland. 

know it to be so,” re-affirmed Sly. ‘^She has 
eloped with my junior partner. Pry. Pll give my rea- 


THE ESCAPE. 


189 


sons another time. But now, hasten on, and have them 
arrested. Declare her to be insane, and swear out a 
warrant against Pry. But don’t forget us, and when 
you reach the station, send a conveyance of some kind 
back for us; and see to it that you do not keep us too 
long in this confounded den.” 

You are generous. Sly,” said Voland, quite sur- 
prised at his apparent unselfishness. ‘MVe are freezing 
here, and I shall be off like a flash.” 

Meantime Hermann had the horse harnessed and 
Voland started quickly, just about the time that Pau- 
lina had reached the station. 

Nor was Voland as unhappy as might be supposed, 
at the idea of her escape. But he was angry to be out- 
witted, dreaded exposure, and he was enraged at the possi- 
bility of Paulina’s having gone with Pry. Yet he had 
no confidence in Sly, and did not see how such an ad- 
venture was 2^ossible, and so came to the conclusion that 
there was some new scheme on foot — nor did he quite 
understand Sly’s eagerness to have Paulina confined in 
an insane asylum; as to the project that had at first en- 
gaged his attention, he had quite determined to forego 
any revenge that involved so much savagery. He found 
that the reflections resulting from such a course made 
him too uncomfortable, and his conscience was already 
too much agitated, to willingly add a new source of 
uneasiness. 

He did not arrive at the station in time for the noon 
train, but he found his own team there, and left for him 


190 


DIVORCED. 


sure enough, in a way that seemed to confirm Sly’s 
statement about Pry. 

It was now so late in the day that no one would un- 
dertake to go and return with the carriage, and the best 
that could be done, was to engage a man to drive to the 
manse for his confederates the next morning. Mean- 
time he left in a night train for home. 

Yoland was rather diverted at the idea that his late 
comrades would have a dismal time of it waiting, for in 
his heart he despised them both, and congratulated 
himself that he had parted company from them. 

One thing he did not intend to do, and that •was, 
have Paulina and Pry arrested, and thus bring the 
whole transaction before the public, and have his pri- 
vate grievances ventilated in open court, and his con- 
templated rascality exposed. 

It is high time,” said Neale Yoland, as he arrived 
home the next morning, ‘‘^that I should shake off such 
low curs and resume that place in social circles 
that by right belongs to me, and I am not sorry that 
Paulina has taken the child from that infernal Sly. 
But she shall not keep him, unless she comes back to 
me, and there’ll be a long lawsuit yet, as to whose is 
the child, as sure as his name, and mine, is Neale Yo- 
land 

This selfish worldling had sinned, as we have before 
pointed out, because he was a huge egotist, and never 
considered others. His cruelties were in consequence 
rather passive than active, but he drew back with an 


THE ESCAPE. 


191 


innate repulsion at the spring of the tiger in Sl^s 
nature. 

He had never paused in his unworthy career, to 
measure the extent of the suffering inflicted on Miriam, 
for she was forgotten by him rather than intentionally 
tortured. Such brief passion of love as he once had 
felt for her was extinguished by other pleasures, and he 
was only recalled to a sense of his iniquitous conduct 
when Miriam^s death was announced to him by Sly. 
Then he felt conscience stricken. This impression was 
heightened and confirmed by his visit to the scene of 
her prolonged trials, and the reproaches of Paulina 
which he knew to be merited. 

And when he saw his own beautiful child, whom he 
had so shamefully neglected, and who, witnessing a 
beloved mother’s misery and death brought on by his 
misconduct, learned to hate him — then it was, that 
all too late he yearned to retrieve the past, and regain 
his boy. 

But ‘^the wages of sin is death,” and he was about 
to reap as he had sowed. His divorced wife, who loved 
him, was blotted out, and he was the object of their 
son’s maledictions. 


CHAPTER XIL 


RETRIBUTION, 


HERE is always, at some time, a culmination in the 



affairs of men, a harvest to be reaped either of good 


or evil, 


In some cases, this result is so peculiarly striking 
that people are forced to exclaim, “This is a case of 
poetic justice.” The simple truth is, that God’s justice 
always goes even handed with His mercy, only at times 
the balance is struck in another world and beyond mor- 
tal ken, while again, we catch glimpses of retributive 
justice in this. 

When such effects occur, leading up to some dra- 
matic denouement, we can, later on, trace incidents 
which, in themselves trifling, were really parts of one 
harmonious whole, and of necessity belonged to the 
action in progress. 

We have now arrived at such a point in our story 
where we can see the connecting link, toward the at- 
tainment of the end. 

We shall presently perceive that during the rapid 
march of events terminating in a catastrophe, the seem- 
ingly trivial taking away of the larger conveyance for 
the escape of Paulina, so as to necessitate Eeale Voland 


RETRIBUTION. 


193 


leaving his confederates, as also the removal of Mrs. 
Brown, were needed in order to place Sly and Hermann 
in sole possession of the manse. 

When Voland drove off, the two men went back into 
the house and made a fire in the room recently occupied 
by Paulina, for they were very cold. In the beginning. 
Sly, like one who unexpectedly learns some secret, did 
not wish to share it with any one, and he was appre- 
hensive that Hermann might also discover some mystery 
about the misePs chamber. So he, himself, brought 
down the remnants of last nighPs feast, and they 
breakfasted together, cozily enough, by the fire in 
Miriam’s room below. 

At first Sly thought that he would not communicate 
his discovery to any one, but as the day wore on and the 
expected carriage did not arrive, he had more time for 
reflection, and finally, just at dusk, when another night 
on the mountain seemed inevitable and it was quite cer- 
tain that they would be undisturbed, he concluded with 
much hesitation to take Hermann in as a partner. In 
case any treasure should be found, he trusted to that 
wily stratagem, which he ah^ys knew so well how to 
weave, to get the lion’s share. 

Several reasons led him to adopt this course, rather 
than the one that first suggested itself, which was to re- 
turn alone as speedily as possible and make a thorough 
search of the premises. If he waited to do this, there 
was the advantage of securing any booty he might find, 
all for himself; yet, again, there was the disadvantage 
13 


194 


DIVORCED. 


of not being able to come back to so remote a spot with- 
out attracting some notice. 

■ He knew how curious country people were whenever 
a stranger made his appearance among them, and he 
was sure th%t he could not well leave the station and 
return to it unseen. Then there was Pry. That decided 
him. He would steal a march on Pry. As to Her- 
mann, he had proved a clever associate and an unscru- 
pulous one, and these were two excellent qualities, in 
Sly^s eyes. Having decided, he lost no time in opening 
up the subject. 

^^We were,” said he, “three drivelling idiots last 
night to let Pry play that low trick on us and get off 
with our prisoners.” 

“How so?” inquired Hermann. “I was surprised 
when you told Volaiid that Pry had eloped with his wife, 
but I supposed you were only trying to throw the man 
on the wrong track. The fact is,” added he, hesitat- 
ing, “ I was not quite sure but that you had secreted 
the party yourself, for purposes of your own.” 

“ If I had kept my wits about me, such a ruse could 
have been played out,” answered Sly, rather pleased at 
the compliment to his assumed cleverness. “ Perhaps,” 
added he, with a scrutinizing look, “you, doctor, know 
something more about it than you choose to confess.” 

“^Poii honor, no!” laughed Hermann, well pleased 
in turn, “although it did occur to me once or twice, 
that there were opportunities to be made use of.” 

“ I rather like you,” said Sly, “you are such an im- 


RETRIBUTION. 


195 


pudent scoundrel, and I^^e half a mind to tell you a 
secret.’' 

Bury it in Hades, ” replied the fellow, and it 
wouldn’t be so safe. I hold the secrets of societies in 
my hands, that the braggart police and their vaunted 
detectives would give their right hand to ferret out.” 

Sly started, half afraid to trust a person who was 
doubtless a fugitive, and sought for some offense; when 
it flashed upon him that this would be all the better 
for his purposes, as he could make use of the fellow and 
Avhen he had done with him, denounce him as one 
amenable to law. 

So he said very seriously, Doctor, I have faith in 
you, and with your help we can make this a night’s 
work worth remembering. Swear to keep as a profound 
secret what I am about to divulge to you.” 

In the name of Satan, I swear,” said Hermann 
with a deep oath, adding, ‘‘You know his majesty 
answered me last night.” 

“ Hone of that nonsense” sneered Sly. “ I can certify 
that you are a first-class juggler, but you can’t deceive 
Caleb Sly, who knows more about that devil than you 
do. Come now, already it grows dark and we have only 
the glimmer of a lantern for our operations to-night.” 

They ascended to the scene of the recent orgy, when 
Sly at once proceeded to the moving panel, which slid 
back upon being pressed, disclosing a steep, narrow 
stairway. 

“Behold!” exclaimed Sly triumphantly, “whence 


196 


DIVORCED. 


our devil escaped, and he was none other than my junior 
partner. Pry. I would recognize him in any disguise, 
among a million of men. It was on account of those 
basilisk eyes of his that I chose him as my associate. 

They descended the precipitous stairs, which led into 
an arched way in the cellar, and out from under the 
house, until they ascended some half dozen steps, 
lifted a loose stone, which had been carelessly closed, 
and emerged in the cleft of a rock not far distant. 

Hermann laughed ironically, and Sly looked much 
disappointed. 

^'This,^' said he, accounts for Pry^s adventure. 
The miser kept it as a means of escape in case he was at- 
tacked.^’ 

“That may be,” replied Hermann, “but what’s 
that to us ? We’ve had a miserable tramp to no pur- 
pose.” 

“ Dolt!” answered Sly, “we’ll try again. If a man 
constructs a subterranean passage for flight, it is because 
he has treasures to guard and fears attack. It never 
was known what became of him, and he was reputed 
wealthy.” 

They returned to the room, and Sly at once went to 
the old fireplace, where, stooping over, without much 
effort he displaced a thin stone set in the hearth, hold- 
ing it up by the small steel ring he had observed. Both 
men started back at the musty smell, and a sort of pes- 
tiferous effluvia that came up from the deep, closed in, 
dark depth. 


RETRIBUTION. 


197 


Bad air had evidently been confined there for some 
time, and they prudently waited a little while to venti- 
late the place, before descending. 

This is a discovery,’" chuckled Sly, ^^that Pry has 
never made. I’d like to pitch him headforemost down 
these steep stairs. Go on, doctor,” said he. 

“ Don’t mistake me for Pry,” mildly hinted that gen- 
tleman. Come, I’ll light you,” and they slowly descend- 
ed the spiral iron stairs, some twenty steps. 

Hermann, who preceded, reached the bottom first, 
when he gave an irrepressible shout, that re-echood in 
sepulchral moans and groans within the hollow, vaulted 
space, then rising into jibing jeers, as it ascended into 
the miser’s chamber above, rang out through the old 
house, and died away in its remotest corners in an 
indescribable confusion of sound. 

Hold! ” roared Sly, springing forward, ^‘'on your 
life, not another step.” 

Caitiff, ’’growled Hermann, turning to him fiercely, 
^^who dares to stop me ?” 

Did demons at that instant possess them bodily, or was 
it but an outburst of the savagery of their evil natures, 
as they glared upon each other like tigers thirsting for 
blood ? 

There they stood, before the closed iron door of the 
treasure safe of the old miser, and both at that moment 
wished that the other was dead; that he alone might 
seize his hoarded wealth. A rusted key was in the door. 
Their outstretched hands met upon it, when they 


198 


DIVORCED. 


angrily drew back as if about to fight. But the key did 
not turn readily. 

Hermann paused, and bis face grew livid with the 
mingled passions of hate, rage, and greed. It was as if 
several contending demons now overmastered him. 

lie set the light he held, close to the door at one side. 
‘^Stop, Sly,’^ said he, ‘‘^wait and you may have it all 
your own way.” 

At this he drew from an inner pocket, carefully but 
with triumphant malice, a woolen mitten, upon which 
lie poured oil from a small vial, that was homeopathic in 
size. 

^^Put on this oiled mitten. Sly, and you will be able 
to turn the key.” 

^‘That's fair,” said Sly, pacified. 

Let me help put it on. Sly,” added Hermann; ^^it 
may be a tight fit, but it works like a charm.” 

So saying he bent forward, but as he did so he stum- 
bled and slightly grazed Sly^s hand with the diamond 
point of his cuff button, just enough to draw a little 
blood. 

^‘Fool,” roared Sly, ‘'^what are you about ?” 

Beg pardon,” pleaded Hermann, seeing Sly’s bleed- 
ing hand, and with a strong, hard grip forcing the mit- 
ten on it. Now turn the key quickly,” he cried. 

Sly made an eager movement and the penetrating 
oil instantly did its work. As the bolt yielded, Hermann 
pressed his own hand, which he had covered with a thick 
gauntlet, heavily on Sly’s, who uttered a loud outcry as 


RETRIBUTION. 


199 


sharp, lacerating pains shot up his arm. Instantly his 
hand began to swell and dropped powerless at his side, 
while a deathly nausea and faintness pervaded his frame. 

^^Die like the dog that you are,’^ bellowed Hermann, 
with a savage yell, and seizing the dim light, he sprang 
within the half opened door; yet at the same moment 
he recoiled with a terrified cry as he stood in the nar- 
row space filled with mephitic air, face to face with the 
ghastly, grinning skeleton of the miser who had per- 
ished, fastened in by some recoil of the door, at the altar 
of his gods, within that very adytum where he had wor- 
shiped. 

Everywhere glistened the sin-creating gold in un- 
counted, glittering, mocking heaps. Around, above, 
beneath, gold stretched out upon gold, pillowed on 
gold. Demoniac gold, that gave neither food, raiment, 
nor happiness; but starvation, wasting away, and oh, 
what a horrible death. 

As Hermann recoiled, dismayed at the gruesome, 
spectral image, thus ever keeping grim watch and ward 
over that for which he had bartered his immortal soul. 
Sly, whose fast failing strength took in the scene with 
horrid exultation, made an expiring etfort, and wielding 
liis well arm with the energy of unbounded thirst of 
vengeance, hurled the springing door fast into its set- 
ting, and it closed upon Hermann with the same fixed 
and death-dealing bolt that had fastened in the miser. 

Die yourself like the dog that you are,"^ groaned 
Sly, as he sank upon the cold stones, already overcome 


200 


DIVORCED. 


by the swift action of the deadly vims of tlie coluber, 
that now penetrated through every vein, madly coursing 
its way to paralyze the action of the heart. 

But as the stupefaction caused by the poison over- 
came him, his ears were still lulled by what was to him 
the welcome music of Hermann's agonizing shrieks, as 
he in turn fully realized his own awful doom. The foul 
air was rent with fouler blasphemies, , and Sly^s death- 
bed was, by a swift act of retribution, far more appall- 
ing than the bedlam he had but twenty-four hours be- 
fore pictured to Paulina, with gloating deliberation of 
malice, for her closing days. 

Yet, so sweet is revenge to the lost soul, that as he 
stiffened in the rigors of death, a fiendish smile was 
stamped upon his face, for the last sounds that feebly 
reached his fading senses, were the hellish execrations of 
his enemy. 

Within that eventful forty-eight hours the storm 
king had passed in fury over that sin-tossed spot, and 
the demons of the air had screamed in wildest chorus of 
fiendish joy at the scenes being enacted within the 
desolate old manse; but now their limit was reached, 
their rude carnival ended, and fair nature, rejoicing, 
donned her most beauteous, jeweled robe. 

The glorious sun shone upon the now snow-vestured 
mountain-top, casting over its pure bosom a softly- 
tinted radiance, and from every bough and projecting 
craggy point hung pendent icicles, each congealed drop 
aglow with rainbow prisms. 


RETRIBUTION. 


201 


The crisp, clear air, gave forth a musical resonance 
to the delighted ear, and an exhilarating, bracing influ- 
ence, that would have made a man rejoice to live and 
have his being, then and there. 

But none of God^s creatures remained to praise Him 
on that beautiful winter^s morning, as his glory en- 
wrapped the mountain- top as with a king’s lustrous, 
empurpled mantle. Only the frenzied wretch who tor- 
tured the unwilling air in the noisome cell below — he 
alone remained. 

And was he not in the near approaching throes of 
dissolution, ever wrestling with the inexorable angel of 
death? 

Yet he held one wild hope — the expected carriage 
would come, and he would make himself heard. Then 
he would be released. How hours were counted when 
minutes seemed ages; yet the time did come, and his 
strained ear caught the rumble of the carriage wheels, 
reverberating on the frozen earth. 

Great God! was tRere ever agony like this blended 
anguish and suspense? 

The driver stopped, shouted, tramped through the 
house, opening every door, looking into every room be- 
low, and then ascended the stairs to the chamber above. 

Hermann reserved all his strength for this supreme 
effort, and as the man entered the miser’s room, he 
gave one awful shriek from his stony sepulchre below, 
hearing which, the terrifled man bounded with loud out- 
cry down the creaking stairs, screaming that the place 


202 


DIVORCED. 


was haunted, and scrambling up to his seat, drove 
rapidly away. 

Now the crazed criminal below knew that his doom 
was irrevocable. At his side was afterwards found a 
faintly scribbled paper, written at intervals by the dim 
light. The broken sentences ran thus: 

confess that there is a God — yes — I believe, and 
tremble. It was I who threw the bomb. Oh, the sick- 
ening slaughter ! Even in this dismal dungeon I can 
see the quivering limbs. Will they never be at rest? 
1 escaped from human, but I perish by divine ven- 
geance. Cruel God, I hate you, I abhor you! Satan, 
come, be more merciful than that other one. A last 
joy is mine. The old hag whom he called Mrs. Brown 
has been here. She fell on Sly’s loathsome body and 
called him ^ so7i/ I yelled to her — she screamed back, 
a raving maniac — mother and son — oh, how sweet is 
revenge.” 

It is supposed that Hermann survived some ten days 
before he finally yielded up the ghost in that charnel 
treasure vault, where years before the sordid miser had 
found a living tomb. 

No pen could ever trace the agonies of that slow tor- 
ture, whose horrors can alone find expression in lan- 
guage invented by despair; in that lowest depth where 
unrepenting sinners suffer eternal torment. 

He H« * He H: H: 

After Neale Voland arrived home, he impatiently 
expected the return of Sly and Hermann, as he was espe- 


RETRIBUTION. 


203 


cially anxious to see the former, in order to have a conver- 
sation with him about Pry, and find out why hesusj)ected 
the latter of eloping with Paulina, for, in his hurried 
departure from the manse, he had accepted the statement 
without demanding proofs. 

Several days having elapsed and neither of the men 
appearing, Voland decided to employ a detective to 
make some inquiries for him. He discovered that 
Paulina, with his child and Nora, had reached Hazle- 
hurst, unaccompanied by any one, the evening of the 
day that she left the mountain, and also, that she was 
so ill that her recovery was doubtful. He also learned, 
that although Pry had been absent two days from his 
office, yet he had appeared there as usual on the morn- 
ing succeeding Paulina’s return home, nor had he visited 
her at any time. 

The mere fact of his absence for two days, did not 
connect him in any way with the escape of Paulina, 
and no clue could be obtained as to his movements dur- 
ing that period. However, his uneasiness about the 
continued absence of Sly and Hermann increased^ and 
finally his agitation became so great, that he reluctantly 
employed the services of the same detective, to procure 
more direct information than he had been able to glean. 

At the end of some days, the official came back with 
the startling news that there was a current report of a 
double murder having been committed at the old 
house on the mountain. The man finally added, with 
some hesitation, that he thought it his duty to mention. 


204 


DIVORCED. 


that Mr. Voland^s own name was rather unpleasantly 
connected with their fatal journey to that place. 

At liearing this, Yoland evinced so much perturba- 
tion, that some latent suspicions the detective was 
beginning to entertain were rather confirmed. 

Yoland was too practiced a man of the world to fail 
to interpret the keen glance directed to him, and when 
he was left alone, and could consider his situation care- 
fully, he realized with immense trepidation what a 
subtle chain of circumstantial evidence could be woven 
against him, and it would be difficult to dispel all doubts, 
without unraveling the whole scheme. 

lie was indeed prostrated at the bare idea of being 
involved in such disgrace, and he passed a terrible night, 
filled with remorse and self-accusations. 

But, after carefully considering the situation in 
which he was placed, he came to the conclusion that 
Pry was the only one likely to assist him to clear away 
the painful mystery. He, therefore, determined to lose 
no time, but to overcome any ill feeling he might have 
in his regard, and consult Pry at an early hour the 
next morning. During that night, as he reviewed the 
past seven years, his soul was filled with bitterness at 
the startling retrospect. There rose before him the 
image of Miriam, his gentle bride, in all her loveliness. 
He recalled how he had wooed her with passionate pur- 
suit; nor had he ever dreamed, in those first days of 
their wedded bliss, that he could possibly have been 


RETRIBUTION. 


205 


capable of casting a life so tenderly cHerished, into the 
deepest shadow. 

‘^It all comes/^ cried he, ^‘from this accursed facil- 
ity of divorce. Did the laws of my country protect 
marriage as a solemn religious rite, and hedge it round 
with safeguards that would make it an inviolable union, 
I could never have so basely yielded to temptation. But 
I looked upon matrimony as a mere civil contract, 
to be lightly held or broken at pleasure. Did this 
nation, as a Christian nation should, enforce the indis- 
solubility of matrimony, I would at this moment be a 
happy husband and a proud father. But now, having 
availed myself of the license our lax laws gave, what 
has fallen upon me? Naught but ruin, rnin!^^ 

The next morning Neale Voland sought Pry at his 
office. He felt ill when he left home, for he had scarcely 
slept at all; and when he did sleep he was troubled with 
disturbed dreams. He experienced a strange heaviness, 
almost amounting to dimness of vision, with buzzing in 
the ears and pain in his head. But his mind was so preoc- 
cupied that he scarcely gave heed to his physical condition. 

He found Pry in his office, who at once accosted 
him hurriedly, saying: 

‘^Mr. Voland, you arc the very man I most wished 
to see. This awful tragedy of the double murder cre- 
ates the greatest excitement; and, I am pained to say, 
that your name is disagreeably mixed up with some 
mysterious circumstances connected with the crime. I 
was about seeking you to confer with you.” 


206 


DIVORCED. 


“ Great God! shudderedNeale Voland, what is it 
all about? His face assumed a mottled, purplish look, 
and he slightly reeled. 

‘MVhy,^^ said Pry, who seemed to find a pleasure in 
prolonging his suspense, it is the most awful affair. 
My senior partner was found murdered in the old 
manse, where his mother, who, it seems, had escaped 
from a sick bed at a farmer’s house near by, was found 
wandering about, a raving maniac; and your valet, 
Hermann, has also met with a fearful death at the same 
place. And what is still more curious, there are weird 
stories regarding the time and the manner of these 
deaths. It is even asserted that the doom that befell 
these men was predicted. They died. Sly, within 
twenty-four hours, and Hermann in the ten days proph- 
esied.” 

At this moment Neale Voland groaned, exclaiming, 
“ The fullness of time has come for the third. Oh, 
God! have pity on a poor sinner! ” , 

At these words. Pry, alarmed at his aspect, rushed 
to support him, just as Voland fell heavily forward, 
breathing stertorously. 

Every effort was made to restore him, but he never 
regained consciousness, lingering some twenty-four 
hours in a comatose state, when he died. 

And thus it came to pass, in God’s providence, that 
what had indeed been but idle words, spoken at random, 
proved to be a true foretelling of the near-coming doom of 
the three conspirators. That these things came to pass 


RETRIBUTION 


207 


was neither within the range of the supernatural, nor 
of the preternatural, but it certainly was a singular 
coincidence. 

The whole subject of coincidental effects is one well 
worthy of the serious investigation of the scientist. 
These sequences occur too often and are too striking in 
their nature to be slightly set aside as a mere chance. 
The fact is, there is no such thing as chance in the 
providential plan, and he who observes causes most 
accurately, will be the most likely to come to a correct 
conclusion as to what will occur as a consequence. 

Pry was horrified at the sudden death of Voland, 
and he reproached himself for the manner of his an- 
nouncement. He had been greatly shocked by the 
nefarious conspiracy, into which Voland had entered, 
for the abduction of Paulina, although he knew Sly had 
been the prime mover in this wicked scheme. In fact, 
he had intended to play upon Voland^s superstitious fears 
and punish him by creating harassing doubts, which 
afterward he meant to explain away. 

He was profoundly agitated at the unexpected ful- 
fillment of his own pretended prophecy, for it was in 
truth he who had personated the evil one, that tem- 
pestuous night, when he so successfully carried out his 
admirable plan of escape. 

To do as he had done, required extraordinary nerve and 
force of character, as well as a kind and generous nature. 

He had been taken into partnership by Sly as a needy 
young lawyer of fine ability, who he thought would 


208 


DIVORCED. 


serve as a useful and supple tool in his infamous projects. 
But Sly, as is often the case with designing men who meas- 
ure others by themselves, overshot his mark, and was quite 
mistaken in his estimate of Pry. 

He had, to be sure, even much greater ability than 
Sly had supposed, but he was not low or intriguing, and 
as he gradually became aware of the unscrupulous acts 
of his senior, he began to watch him very narrowly, with 
the intention, so soon as he could safely do so, to disas- 
sociate himself from so depraved a man. Thus, we find 
him overhearing the interview with V oland and Her- 
mann, through which he was made aware of their plot. 
He at once determined to save Paulina, and had at first 
thought of taking some officers of the law with him; but 
when he weighed the whole situation, he finally decided 
on the daring plan adopted. The awful storm raging, 
his knowledge of the subterranean passage, and the 
heavy drinking of the conspirators, all aided him. 
These were what might be called adjuncts, which a 
clever man could in a measure foresee, and they came to 
his aid. His own skill did the rest. And the innocent 
ones were saved, through his instrumentality. 

There was one phase that he did not trust himself to 
scan too closely. Had he been guided solely by benevo- 
lence of purpose, or was there a deeper sentiment that 
caused him thus to risk his life? He dared not deny 
that there was, and now that Neale Voland was dead, 
he no longer hesitated to avow it himself that an im- 
mense love for Paulina filled his soul. 


KETRIBUTION. 


209 


But how wretched this confession made him! At 
first he had said to himself, I save her she will 
marry me,” but having saved her, having witnessed 
her noble self-sacrifice, her calmness and fortitude, he 
recognized himself as all unworthy. 

Thus, he had never made himself known to her as 
her deliverer. He began to live upon a higher plane, 
to aspire to excellence, and to think of Paulina as 
some fixed star of great magnitude, which might always 
be found in the heavens, but to whose heights he could 
never hope to rise. Pry was going through a purifying 
process, out of which he was to emerge a man of high 
resolves and noble acts. 

Several things he. had already determined on — one 
was, that he would at once resume his proper name, 
which was Oscar Pryor, and not Obadiah Pry. 

When Sly had taken him as his junior, he intui- 
tively felt that his position might not add to the repu- 
tation of a good old family name, and he amused him- 
self with the euphemism of ^'0. Sly and 0. Pry.” But 
now he had grown past youthful follies, he would strive 
to do honor to his own name, and make it respected in 
the community, and in order to carry this good inten- 
tion into effect, he was firmly resolved never again, no 
matter what the temptation, to soil his conscience by 
assisting to procure divorces, except as the defender of 
the oppressed. He would in future solely use his accu- 
rate knowledge of divorce laws, to enable the maligned 
to escape snares laid for them by the designing. Thus, 
14 


210 


DIVORCED. 


by a series of good deeds, did he hope gradually to lift 
himself nearer the pedestal upon which Paulina stood. 

Filled with this worthy ambition, some days after 
Neale Voland^s death he went to Hazlehurst, in order 
to make the announcement to Paulina of that divorce 
which death had made for her. 

Paulina had been dangerously ill. The fearful 
strain she had endured, the horror of that nighPs peril, 
had brought on a low, nervous fever, but she was now, 
thanks to the unremitting care of Nora, the loving 
caresses of the dear child, and the untiring devotion of 
a good physician, restored to life and returning health. 
But a deep melancholy brooded over her. She saw so 
much in the future to terrify her — her union with 
Voland, her fear of Sly, her dread of having the child 
taken away from her, and there was always a secret 
horror of some new plot against her liberty or her life. 

Nor, were these apprehensions mere phantoms of 
the imagination, for had these men lived, her danger 
would have been extreme. 

When Pry was announced, she was seated in that 
very bay window of the drawing-room, where, on the 
wedding evening, she had gazed out upon a dull and 
leaden sky. 

But now the brightness of a pleasant, sunny winters 
day, spoke of hope and of clouds dispelled. 

As he entered she was greatly agitated, for she feared 
that he was but an unwelcome messenger of bad news 
from Neale Voland, or what was worse, the dreaded Sly. 


RETRIBUTION. 


211 


But Pry^s manner was dignified, modest, and defer- 
ential, and it composed her. She bade him be seated, 
and they two occupied the recessed window. 

She looked at him appealingly, and he felt the 
pathos of her saddened expression. 

Madam,” said he, I beg you to listen calmly as I 
make known to you, how God in his mercy has saved 
you.” 

She clasped her hands, and tears filled her eyes. 

‘^It is kindness,” added he, his voice trembling so 
that he could scarcely speak, ^^to tell you at once that 
all those who could or would have injured you, are 
dead. He whom you married, Neale Voland, died of 
apoplexy but a few days since. Sly and Hermann met 
with a violent death at the old manse where we left 
them, and in a vault of that house is stored away a vast 
sum of money, which is the property of Neale Voland’s 
son, through his mother.” 

May God have mercy on the souls of the dead,” 
solemnly prayed Paulina, very pale. “ But why, sir, 
should you say where we left them ? ” 

Oscar Pryor hesitated, then in a low and husky 
voice, said: 

^^Know, most excellent of women, that under divine 
Providence, it was I, who, disguised, ventured my life to 
save yours.” 

""Oh,” exclaimed Paulina, ""my noblest, best, most 
generous of friends, I owe to you a never-ending debt 
of gratitude. How can I ever begin to repay it?” 


212 


DIVORCED. 


If/^ answered he timidly, “you would deign to honor 
me, by allowing me to continue to protect you, if per- 
chance you ever need protection; and if you will at the 
same time permit me to admire you as the loveliest of 
your sex, I shall be happy.^'’ 

“ She will,^^ chirped the clear, infantile voice of the 
bewitching little Neale Voland, who had been curled 
up on an ottoman near, hidden from view by the heavy 
drapery of the window, “and if you will promise never 
to be naughty, you may be my dear, new papa.” 



\ ^ 


i 








